


The Meanest Town on Earth

by DeepLittleSOB



Series: Lizzy-verse [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hunters & Hunting, Injury, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Threesome - F/F/M, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 72,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3563321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeepLittleSOB/pseuds/DeepLittleSOB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a night of drinking and debauchery in the City of Sin, Lizzy wakes up to a pounding head and a brand new gold band on her finger.  Did she and Dean finally take the plunge!?  Is she now Mrs. Winchester!?  Why can't she remember anything...?  And why is their room completely trashed?  And better question... what the hell motel is this!?</p><p>But when he walks out of the bathroom and Lizzy gets an eyeful of the man she's shacked up with and married while blacked out she's shocked to find it's not the man she assumed it'd be....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Good Cop, Bad Cop

**Author's Note:**

> "For a loser, Vegas is the meanest town on earth." - Hunter S. Thompson.
> 
> My version of a Vegas retreat for some well-deserving hunters! This is the sixth story in my series. I suggest reading the others in order to fully understand everything but reading this on its own is just fine too. It's a fun one filled with mystery and a whole lot of sex. Whoo hoo!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own or have the rights to anything of the Supernatural universe. I am just playing in their sandbox.

* * *

The bed creaks and dips from the other side as the man next to her begins stirring, pulling her mind out of the deep sleep she'd been in. The mattress rises once the weight that had been on it is taken off and she listens while facing away to his feet dropping onto the carpeted floor and making their way across the room. After hearing the bathroom door click into place, she inhales deeply and then groans as she exhales, the headache making its presence well known as her brain tries to jumpstart. Good Lord, her skull is absolutely splitting open.

"Ow," she whispers to no one in particular as she rolls onto her back and presses the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. That must have been one hell of a night, she thinks to herself as she lays back. On top of the headache, her stomach is queasy and for the life of her she can't remember much past the first few drinks she had. A scene of some bar comes through the clouds, and walking sloppily down the strip while quite drunk, but other than the few, flashing bits and pieces, she comes up empty handed. God damn, they must have been bombed.

Sitting up, she looks around the room and is very surprised. This wasn't the same room the three of them checked into when they all arrived in Las Vegas two days ago. Their initial place was much shittier than this one; it was dirtier and smelled like smoke in every room. Taking in the details around her now, she recognizes that this new room has its own unique quirks and is totally ridiculous in every aspect. Everything is in shades of red, white and pink. The weathered wallpaper had tiny red hearts printed all over it and the bed was in the shape of a circle. She'd bet any amount of money that if she flicked the nearest switch on the wall that the mattress would rotate like a skanky carousel. Spying the red, heart-shaped hot tub in the corner that looked like it was straight out of the movie Dumb and Dumber, she scrunches her face in disgust. She definitely let him pick this place while hammered last night. Laughing at the thought briefly, she groans again when the exertion it makes her headache flare up.

Clearly they kept the party going once they got back here, she thinks. There are two empty bottles of champagne sitting by the still filled and now cold hot tub and there are clothes scattered all over the place. She knows they had a hell of a time once she spies her bra hanging from the lamp on the nightstand.

The sun is coming in through the small space where the heavy motel curtains don't quite meet but she has not a clue what time it is. Reaching to the bedside table with her left arm to check her phone for a time of day, she freezes halfway. There is a brand new piece of jewelry on her ring finger. Her heart skips a beat at the sight. How did that get there?  _Why_  is it there?

As the shock sets in she pulls her hand close to her face, studying the tacky gold band with laughable hearts etched into it. What did they do last night! Did they seriously get married! Holy shit! Did they just spur of the moment while completely shit-faced commit themselves to each other! For life!

Breathing deeply to calm herself after the initial shock hits, her heart rate begins to slow as she starts to think rationally about the whole situation. They knew this was where they were eventually headed, they'd even talked about it a few times before, so maybe it wasn't really so bad. Thinking clearly, she finds herself smiling. Wow, they did it. They actually took the plunge. It's a shame she doesn't remember it, but in the moment she doesn't care that much. She's filled with her all-consuming love for him and revels in the moment. Mrs. Winchester. Definitely sounds good and if she was being honest, she's wanted this for a while now.

Hearing the toilet flush from the other side of the closed bathroom door, she's excited for him to get back in the room and join her. She wants to celebrate this occasion and remember it this time. The door begins to open and her heart skips a beat.

"Mornin' hubby," she grins but quickly her smile drops into a pale, panicked expression. "Uh…" She sees him standing stock still in his boxer briefs in the doorway and finds that she can't breathe with the surprise of the sight of him.

* * *

**_Three Days Earlier_ **

"Let's do good cop, bad cop," Lizzy grins mischievously at him from Bobby's living room, her voice quiet so that the tied down creature in the study can't hear what she says.

"What?" Dean asks turning to face her sharply with a surprised and annoyed expression.

"Louie and I used to do it all the time," she quickly explains, shrugging her shoulders as she doesn't understand why it's such a bad idea. They needed to interrogate the shapeshifter and Lizzy thinks they should have some fun with it. Their job had been pretty devoid of any amusement as of late so why the hell not get a little playful with it?

"What is this, a shitty 70's cop drama?" Dean asks in what would have been a loud voice had he not done his best to keep it down. It was more of a yell/whisper.

"No," she yell/whispers back at him with her hands planted on her hips. "But it works!"

"No fucking way! When has that ever worked?" Dean challenges, his quiet tone coated with disbelief.

"Every time Louie and I did it! It always worked for us!"

"No, L. That's lame." Dean stands his ground, not wanting to play this stupid game when there was information to be syphoned from the shapeshifter they got their hands on. "This isn't a fucking game. You know we should really get this done before they get back."

"C'mon, be my good cop!" Lizzy pouts, sticking out her bottom lip and holding onto his hands. It didn't work.

"No! And for your information you aren't cute when you do that," he informs her rudely, taking back his hands. "I  _hate_  that." Why she keeps trying that pouty shit, he'll never understand. It never once worked on him.

"Alright, fine. If you play good cop now, then I'll play bad cop later," she smiles out and winks, using his one true weakness against him. Dean stops for a moment while staring her down, hands on his hips, as he thinks. It wasn't the worst proposition he's ever been given…

"Yeah?" Dean questions. Lizzy smiles seductively, knowing she has him right where she wants him. Pushing up on her tip-toes, she brings her lips to his.

"Oh yeah," she mewls out before kissing him deeply, clearly conveying her promise to him. She backs away and looks up at him with hope.

"Fine," Dean gives in through gritted teeth. He hates when she wins and sadly, she wins a lot.

"Yes!" she cuts in, unable to contain her excitement.

"But if it doesn't work, we do it my way!" he warns her.

"Damn, you're pretty demanding for a good cop," Lizzy playfully scolds.

"That's because I'm the  _bad_ cop," he tells her with a stern face as he turns to walk into the study. "You're the good cop." He cuts off any chance she had of rebutting him.

"Fucking control freak," she mutters with a small, triumphant grin under her breath. She decides to stay away for a moment, walking outside and sitting on the front steps of the house while Dean starts in on their creature of the day. Tormenting anything for any reason always made Lizzy slightly uncomfortable so she avoids the show. That and she always worries too much when Dean returns, even if it's only very lightly, to any form of torture. With his time in hell being as it was, she has anxiety that it will pull him back there mentally, or shake loose a part of him that she hopes he's long left behind. It's a scary situation, but if he says he's ok and that he won't get carried away, she trusts him. Plus, she isn't even sure he'd be able to go back to what he once was. He's still broken inside about it, she knows it.

Looking out at the stars in the very clear sky, she's suddenly reminded of all the times she and Lou spent doing the same out in this very scrap car yard. She's been gone for a while now, Lizzy thinks. A long while. It's been odd without her, uncomfortable and Lizzy hasn't felt like herself in almost a year because of it.

Stopping her mind from delving too deep into despair, Lizzy stands and shakes the thought off. She has work to do.

Going back into the house, she walks into the study and surveys the room, Dean over by the desk looking over his weapons of choice and the exhausted shifter in the old wooden chair, head lolling to the side. This is when she turns on her good cop charms.

"Alright," Lizzy gently says while bringing a chair in front of the tied down shapeshifter and taking a seat facing it. She leans back and crosses her legs casually while taking in the split lip and swollen eye on the very familiar face the shifter decided to wear in the hopes of throwing the hunters off. "Let me start by saying I'm sorry about Dean. When in the presence of evil, he tends to get a bit… riled up sometimes."

"Gonna use some of those skills you picked up down under while on summer vacation on me?" Bobby's voice snarls to Dean as the shifter looks out from under his well-worn and well-known trucker hat. "Yeah, I'm quite aware of your past work. We monsters have interspecies talk every now and then."

"Then you know you should be much more scared of me. I  _can_  make you talk, I promise that," Dean warns in a low voice while never letting his eyes leave the large silver knife in his hand. He turns it, the light reflecting off of the shining metal as he does, and smiles.

"He's right," Lizzy says to the Bobby-a-like, acting sad to have to inform him. "So here's what I am thinking; you and I are both smart individuals, correct?"

Lizzy stares at the tied down shapeshifter from her seat directly across from it and waits, looking for a response while trying her best to not be even the least bit weirded out by the fact that the thing was a perfect copy of the man she considers a father. Instead the creature stays quiet, pushing Lizzy with his lack of communication, and she rolls her eyes.

"Looking for a two way street here, dude," she informs him. "I think we're both intelligent people. I know you want to tear me a new one, or maybe change into me because I'm by far the hottest chick you've ever seen, and you know I'd love nothing more than to end your sorry, pathetic, identity-stealing ass. Such is life, huh? So here's what I propose." She leans forward, elbows on her knees, looking at the Bobby-copy as she speaks. "You tell us what we want to know and we'll make this as painless and as quick as possible. You hold out, well, I leave the room and you're stuck with a really pissed of Winchester with an extensive catalogue of torture tricks."

Bobby's faux eyes travel back to Dean and the hunter winks and blows a kiss. The shapeshifter then looks back at Lizzy with conflict.

"Leaving it all up to you, chief," she adds. "I'm hoping you're in a cooperative mood."

"Depends on what you need to know," fake Bobby grits out through clenched teeth, clearly not wanting to spill anything but willing to do so in the face of Dean's wrath.

"Where?" Dean announces as he walks around the back of the wood chair the shapeshifter is tied to. He brings the knife to his captor's neck. "Where are they?"

"Where are who?" he feigns ignorance and Dean lightly drags the blade across its neck, slicing into his skin just a little as fair warning. The wound sizzles and burns as their adopted father's voice screams out with the pain.

"You should play along here," Lizzy very calmly suggests. "It'll only get so, so much worse if you hold back like that. We know there were at least two more of you in that town back there. Where are they?"

Sighing loudly, the shapeshifter looks to the floor. "I don't know."

"Bullshit!" Dean yells, pressing a palm to the evil creature's forehead and yanking it back. "Where are they!" The blade is pressed hard against his now exposed neck.

"No where you'll find them," he responds.

"Not until you tell us" Dean challenges, bringing the knife in his hand high before stabbing it straight through the shapeshifter's hand and into the wood of the chair's arm. "And you will."

Bobby's agony-filled voice fills the small room completely as the skin around the protruding knife bubbles and sears. Dean shoves the shifter's head forward and walks back around the front of the chair.

"No, I won't," the shapeshifter struggles out between pants.

"You know, suddenly I'm really tired," Lizzy over acts while standing and stretching. "I think I'm gonna leave you two alone for a while, take a nap or something." She fakes an exaggerated yawn and begins heading out of the study, Bobby's copy getting the message loud and clear.

"Wait!"

Lizzy stops and turns back to the shapeshifter with a smile at its plea.

"I wasn't joking when I said you won't find them, ok?" the creature tells her.

"Why not?" Dean sternly and quickly asks, another larger silver knife already in his fist.

"Because," Bobby's eyes lock menacingly onto Dean's. "They don't want you to."

Lizzy and Dean fight the urge to make eye contact with its threat. Instead they keep their eyes trained on the creature and wait for more information.

"Trust me," the shapeshifter warns. "You kill me, and they will punish you for it."

"Kinky," Dean brushes off while looking to Lizzy and hoisting his handgun out from his waist. "You said you put silver bullets in here, L?" It's more of issued warning than a needed reminder.

"Sure did, baby," Lizzy patronizingly responds with a wink.

Dean aims his gun at their captive's chest, right over its heart.

"Last chance," Dean cautions. "Where are the rest of your little toadies?"

"Fuck you," the fiery voice of the old hunter spits out to Dean.

"No," Dean says right before he fires three rapid shots, all passing through the monster's heart. Its head immediately slumps over and the room grows still. "Fuck  _you._ " Dean then looks over to Lizzy. "That bad cop enough for ya'?"

"It was pretty bad ass…" Lizzy admits with a slight wanting smile as she walks over to the motionless body, pulling the knife from its hand. She loved seeing Dean in control like that.

"Dean! I heard shots!" Sam loudly worries the second he has the house's side door open. He half runs through the rooms looking for the two hunters already inside and skids to a stop at the sight of a slumped over and motionless Bobby tied to a chair in the middle of the study. "Looks like we're a little late."

"Just a little," Dean confirms while untying the now lifeless shapeshifter from the chair.

"You find out where the rest are?" Sam hopes.

"Nah," Lizzy laments while wiping shifter blood off of the silver knives Dean had used with a dish rag. "He was a stubborn jackass."

"Huh," Sam says surprised.

"Huh what?" Dean asks, wondering what Sam's clearly already thought of.

"You guys ever heard of shapeshifters being protective of each other?"

"Nope," Bobby adds, coming into the room and joining the group. "Not in all my huntin' life."

"And that's a  _long_  ass time," Dean adds with a grin, a little dig on Bobby's age.

"Respect you're elders, idjit," Bobby says back in a tone that only the three younger hunters would know isn't serious. "Normally shifters are loners, each having their own agenda."

"This one was definitely trying to keep those others safe," Dean adds. "It'd rather die than let us know where they were."

"Fucking weird. Bright side, at least you put one of them down," Sam says. "And it's the one that we know was offing people left and right. Job well done if you ask me."

"Yeah, but he left us with a lovely parting threat," Lizzy says while dropping her work and turning to face the others in the room. "He kept saying that we'd regret killing him."

"That's comforting," Bobby sarcastically comments as he walks over to the shifter to take the old trucker hat off its head. He replaces it onto his own, sighing as he feels whole again. "Why'd he say that?"

"Not sure," Dean responds with a huff. "But he said that if we ganked his ass the missing others would come for us." Dean pauses for a moment while looking over to Sam and Bobby. "This is where I was hoping you two would tell us you caught up to them and took 'em down already."

"Found their lair in an old abandoned warehouse, goo and all, but they'd fled by the time we got there," Sam regrets informing them.

"Awesome," Lizzy caustically says.

"Aw, come on, L," Dean walks over and drops an arm around her shoulders. "I doubt they'll actually come for us. They aren't suicidal after all."

"Oh, no. Just vengeful," she returns.

"Hey, if they come around, I'll protect you."

"My fucking hero," she lamely says while she pushes him away. "Eh, I doubt they'll show up, honestly. Like Bobby said, shifters are usually loners."

Lizzy has been hunting with Sam and Dean much more often lately. She could feel the change in the air and with the much more dangerous version of daily life now in place and she wanted to help out as much as possible. Dean was against it at first, having gotten used to her staying home mostly and being safe, but her determination wasn't something he knew how to battle. That and she said didn't want to be away from him ever during these more troubling days and being without him felt wrong and way too terrifying. How could Dean possibly say no to that even if he tried?

"Alright, you know where the shovels are," Bobby says. "I think I have a tiny corner left on my property that isn't already holding the rotting corpse of a dead monster. Gonna run outta places real soon though." He lifts the lowered chin of the creature and studies his own face closely. "Kind of a looker, ain't he?"

"Damn near Brad Pitt level," Lizzy giggles.

The three younger hunters set to work, Lizzy running ahead to retrieve the shovels and Sam and Dean lifting and carrying the body outside. Bobby's FBI line begins ringing right on cue so he leaves the job the kids, as he refers to them all.

"How does he always just happen to get a call the second it's time to bury a body?" Dean's labored voice asks while he hauls the top half of the shifter by its arms.

"Sheer dumb luck, I'm guessing," Sam responds with a small laugh before adjusting his grip on the monster's legs. "I swear they get heavier every time."

* * *

 


	2. Just a Couple of Marshmallows

* * *

"Halfway done," Lizzy smiles to the two men next to her once the shapeshifter's lifeless body is tossed into the pit they dug. She's trying to lighten the mood that she noticed turned quite sour as soon as they began digging. It's been yet another tough run for them all, especially Sam and Dean as she's only been around more recently. They're tired. Very tired. Possibly to the point of near burnout.

"That much closer to the beer that's calling my name from the fridge then," Dean quips while popping the lighter fluid top and pouring it generously onto the Bobby look-a-like. "And to sitting my ass on the couch in front of the TV for a nice couple of hours uninterrupted."

"And to a hot shower," Sam smiles slightly with the thought as he generously dumps in the rock salt from the opposite side of the grave.

"God, that sounds so awesome right about now," Dean agrees.

Lizzy looks between the two of them troubled and saddened. For the Winchesters, a hot shower and a cold beer amounts to sheer heaven. That was the kind of thing they craved when for the rest of the world that is just another day. She hates what this life does to them and in the moment she's fed up. Something needs to be done and she sees the perfect opportunity to make her previously thought of suggestion. "Hey, ah, guys. What do you say we take a few days off?" She watches their faces for a response, but both keep their scowls in place.

"Yeah, sure, L. We should do that," Dean says with obvious sarcasm. "I'm sure the coming Apocalypse would love to wait a few days while we relax." Sam huffs a laugh under his breath, making it clear that he agrees.

"Fuck the Apocalypse," Lizzy angrily responds while pulling the matchbooks from her back pants pocket. "I'm tired of not being able to run my own fucking life, aren't you?"

"Sure," Sam says simply as he caps the salt container and steps back. "But there really isn't much we can do about it."

"Well I say fuck that too," Lizzy tells him as she lights one entire matchbook with another, letting it burn for a few seconds. "I want to have some fun for a few days. I want to remember what it's like to smile again."

"I remember you smiling quite a lot last night," Dean smirks. "That wasn't enough for you?"

"Ha-ha, you know what I mean," Lizzy rebuts while tossing the flaming matches into the pit, the corpse lighting up immediately. "I think we need to get away for a few, have some real, honest-to-God fun before we lose all sanity."

Sam sighs as both he and Dean take pause to look over at her with hesitation in their expressions. Lizzy can feel the 'no' coming so she pushes a little more.

"Guys, you're killing me here! I've been working with you a ton lately and I've been patient, I really have…"

"Please don't make me remind you that you knew what you were getting into with us," Dean cuts in.

"Still more than well aware, darling. Thanks," Lizzy spits back with an acrid tone. "But I'm the one who has to deal with both of your negativity that, I want you to know, is a bit too fucking much as of late. You two are miserable."

Neither respond to her comment, knowing just how true what she says is. The rift keeps growing between them no matter how hard Lizzy tries to stop it. She can't take having to watch them get worse every day, but she also can't help but be suspicious of Sam much like Dean is. What a disaster. They need to get back to their roots, back to a place where they still were not just brothers but friends.

"I say we take it easy tonight, pack it up tomorrow and head to Vegas for a few," Lizzy's eyes light up as she says it. She's been itching to go back so badly and sees her opportunity to make it happen.

"Yeah, I don't know about that," Sam responds with a head shake as he watches Dean take a seat on the hood of the nearest rusted out two-door.

"All I ask is that you consider it for a quick second before shutting the idea down," Lizzy pleads. "Come on! Booze! Gambling! Laying out in the sun with women all around and big-titted servers bringing us drinks!" She wags her eyebrows.

"The world ending while we selfishly have fun…" Dean adds to her list, reminding her of what is most important. Sam nods unconsciously, agreeing one-hundred percent with his brother.

"Dude, Cas would tell us if something was wrong while we're there," Lizzy tries again to rationalize. "We don't have a hunt lined up right now and if we're needed he'll swoop in at the most inconvenient and embarrassing time as per usual to let us know and we'll leave immediately. It'll only be for a couple days."

"Seriously?" Dean exasperatedly asks Lizzy before looking to Sam for some backup. Sam just shrugs and keeps his mouth shut, letting Dean deal with her. It was the perk of not dating someone so determined and sometimes pigheaded like Lizzy. "Am I the only one here who remembers what happened the last time we tried to take time off!" he questions, referring to the Laraje ordeal. "That was fucking awful! Time off isn't something we get to have."

"Dean, knock it off," Lizzy returns with frustration, stepping closer to him and farther away from the flames as they grow. "There's no way that kinda shit would happen again. Plus, didn't you two just a few months ago travel a whole day for a Judas concert? What the fuck is the difference?"

"What if we stick around Bobby's for the day tomorrow and rest?" Sam tries, seeing her distress grow and hoping to dissuade her. "Or if you're burned out, it's really ok. You can go back home for a little bit if you need to. We would understand."

"No," she quickly and sternly says, not seeing that as a viable option. "I'm fine. I just…" She scrunches up her face, knowing she has to tell them the real reason for her suggestion. "Alright, I'll level with you two. It's been almost a year. My Louie's been gone for an entire fucking year."

Sam's expression softens almost immediately. He's more than well aware of the big one year anniversary of Lou's passing in just two days. It's something he'll be aware of for the rest of his life, just like the day his mom died, his dad died, Jessica died….

"We used to stop into Las Vegas all the time. If we were even remotely in the west, you better believe we were hitting the strip before going east again. It was our favorite place. We loved to let go and have some serious, dirty, crazy fun. After several hunts in a row, it was the best way for us to get back to being ourselves and remember who we really were."

Dean stands back up, watching the sadness wash over her face. He takes a step closer to her out of instinct, always feeling compelled to be by her side whenever she's sad.

"I want to spend her one year in our favorite place, getting wasted and doing it with the most important people I have left in my life. And gambling. Oh, and then drinking some more." She unknowingly rubs at her left forearm over the fairly new tattoo commemorating her friend. It was a new habit she'd formed since finishing it a month ago. Whenever Lou came up, she found herself running her fingers over the image of her with the emotional pit that her death left.

Dean and Sam share a look. It's a newer look, one they never used before Lizzy became such a prominent part of their lives. It was a look of complete defeat. When the hell did they become so soft?

"Lizzy," Sam starts, peering at her with a loving look. "You really want to do that? Vegas for Lou's one year?"

"Definitely," Lizzy explains quickly, her true want showing through clearly. "And I know it will do you both well to have some time away from this shitty life, so two birds with one stone."

Sam looks back over to Dean, the puppy look in place. He wants to go for Lizzy and he asks his brother silently to be on the same page as him for this one, something they haven't been able to do for a very long time. Dean rolls his eyes, knowing he's already lost the battle.

"Why didn't you just tell us why you wanted to go in the first place?" Dean questions while moving to stand next to her.

"Because it's hard to," she states simply. "I miss her. So much." Lizzy's voice cracks a little at the end and Dean knows what that means. Tears. Well, shit. He hugs her tight and glances Sam's way once more.

"Alright," Dean concedes in a surrendering tone. "We can leave in the morning."

Lizzy looks up and smiles brightly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Dean gives her a lopsided smile.

"Lizzy, you really don't ask for too much from us… ever," Sam adds. "It's totally not the time for a trip, but we can probably swing it. Just for a couple days though! Then, back at it."

"And if we have to leave early, then we have to leave early," Dean tacks on one more stipulation. "Cas comes to get us, it's over, ok?"

"Absolutely. Thank you," she grins to Dean before turning back to Sam. "Seriously, thank you."

"No problem," Sam responds.

"Ah, you did the teary-voice thing." Dean pushes her away playfully. "No one wants to hear that."

Lizzy smiles down to the ground and picks up her shovel again. She stands and looks into the flames. Thankfully her tough, grizzled, world-worn hunters were just a couple of teddy bears deep down. She silently promises to never let the rest of the world know that little nugget of information as she lets out a small grin.

* * *

 


	3. Good Cop, Bad Cop Part Deux

Opening the door to the room they regularly share at Bobby's, Dean smiles when he sees Lizzy rifling through her bag on top of the old dresser. She's in her sweatpants and white tank, hair still damp from the shower she took after getting back inside the house. Dean was last in the bathroom so his shower was a bit cold, but that was fine with him. He figured he could get Lizzy to warm him up anyways.

"Hey there," Lizzy greets with a smile as she looks up after hearing the door close behind Dean, hands twirling her hair quickly into a messy bun atop her head and wrapping an elastic around it. "Ice cold shower?"

"Yeah," he admits with an exaggerated shiver.

"Well, I appreciate you two letting me go first then," Lizzy thanks.

"And I personally regret it, especially after letting Sam go before me too," Dean grumbles, walking across the room to his own bag on the floor in order to toss his clothes from the day into it. He crouches down, holding the duffel open, when he hears her sudden and demanding tone from behind him.

"Freeze," she commands, her voice stern.

"What?" Dean questions without looking over to her and continuing putting his clothing away. What the hell is she doing? She's so weird sometimes.

"I said freeze, mother fucker," she restates even more seriously than before and Dean drops his stuff, glancing over his shoulder as he does. Lizzy has her sights trained and her Glock aimed steadily at him.

"Lizzy, what are you doing?" Dean says in a slightly nervous tone.

"To you, it's Officer Noonan," she informs him quickly and Dean can't help but smile a little. She's holding up her end of the bargain. She promised if he'd play along while interrogating that shifter she's play along and be bad cop later. Once again she's proving just how excellent she is. "Stand up and put your hands on your head." She cocks the gun, the sound setting him in motion.

Without hesitation, Dean stands up tall and places his hands at the back of his head much like he's had to several times in the past when coming in contact with real cops. They never seemed to trust him oddly enough. Wonder why….

"Go to the wall and face it."

Dean walks to the nearest wall of the bedroom and does as she says.

"Hands on the wall."

Palms pressed to the flat surface, he listens as she makes her way across the room. Once behind him, she presses the handgun into his back. Dean flinches, nervous with the fact that she's using her handgun for something like this and worries that it's still loaded with silver rounds from earlier.

"Not loaded," she whispers into his ear, breaking character just once after sensing his concern. Dean huffs a breath of relief and relaxes a little.

"Good," he grins slightly before letting her continue.

"Spread 'em," she instructs, her tone stern once again as she kicks her foot between his, nudging his legs apart. "Keep your hands there." Dean keeps quiet and does his best to hold back the smile that threatens to break through.

"Is there a problem, officer?"

"There might be. You have any sharp objects, questionable items, or weapons on you today?"

"Why, no I don't."

Lizzy tucks her unloaded gun back into her waistband behind her and begins frisking him. "You know, I've been looking for you for some time now, Dean Winchester." She runs her hands slowly down his sides, taking her time and enjoying herself.

"Really?"

"Oh yes, really." Lizzy confirms as she crouches low and works her hands down each one of his legs.

"And why would that be?" Dean asks, using his usual smart-ass tone he reserves for cops. The authorities generally disliked Dean and he was ok with that. He disliked them too so it was a mutual disrespect.

"Credit fraud, for one." Lizzy stands up behind him and reaches her arms around to his chest. "And impersonating both local and federal law enforcement. And grave desecration, auto theft, and, oh yeah, murder."

"Oh, I don't think I could have done  _all_  of that," he patronizingly responds.

"No?" Lizzy questions him, pressing her body against his backside and dragging her hands down his front. "Because I think you have. Seems to me like you've been a very busy young man."

"Just trying to help out my friends in blue. That's all."

"You better watch that tone with me, boy," Lizzy warns as her hands feel over the front of his sweatpants. "Especially when it appears to me like you have a concealed weapon you failed to tell me about. You have a permit for that thing?"

"No ma'am," Dean returns. "Though you don't have to worry. I'm an expert at using it."

"Hmm," Lizzy smirks out, loving how easily he's playing along. "Is that so?" Lizzy takes his wrists and brings them together behind his back. Pulling the metal handcuffs from her sweatpants pocket, she begins snapping them in place. She's really happy she held onto these for so long now. They're coming in quite handy.

"Sure am," Dean responds, smile wide as the cuffs are locked into place. "I'd be happy to prove it to you if you think it would help."

Lizzy turns him around to face her for the first time since she starting this whole thing. "Are you trying to bribe an officer of the law, Mr. Winchester?" she asks with fake disbelief.

"Maybe," Dean grins, flashing his patented smile that tends to get him out of binds quite easily.

"You know that's against the law, don't you?" Lizzy informs him while pressing up on her tiptoes and snaking her arms around his neck. Her lips just brush his before pulling away again, teasing him that much more. "I could take you in just for that alone."

"I would _love_  for you to take me in," Dean tells her with all honesty and want, double entendre fully meant. Lizzy's knees nearly bucking at his words. How does he do that? This is  _her_  game and he's practically taking it from her.

"Well then, maybe we can strike up a deal," Lizzy offers as she walks backwards, staring at him all the while, until her legs bump into the foot of the bed. "I'll let you go," she begins, sitting down and slowly scooting up to the old wrought iron headboard. "But only if you can prove to me that you know how to use that weapon of yours correctly… and expertly as you so claim."

"You'd be that kind?" Dean asks. He's practically dying with excitement to launch himself at her, but this was all her doing so he can be patient if he must.

"Absolutely," she responds, pulling her gun back out and dropping it onto the nightstand. She then looks back to him, leans her back onto the headboard and curves her index finger toward herself, inviting him over.

Dean walks around to the side of the bed before climbing onto it, kneeling into the open space between her legs. It was a little rough going without the use of his arms but he soon finds his balance.

"These cuffs are really holding me back here, Officer Noonan." He would love nothing more than to get them off and really make sure she had a good time. "I could be a lot more effective if they were off."

"Aw, I'm sorry," Lizzy patronizes as she pulls a key on a metal ring out from her pocket with a wide grin. She begins twirling the ring around her finger teasingly. "But you're a highly dangerous criminal, Mr. Winchester. How do I know you won't flee or worse if I uncuff you?"

"I promise I won't," Dean once again flashes his grin.

"Nice try, but the cuffs stay," Lizzy smirks, winking at him.

"Ok," Dean concedes, leaning forward, bringing his face closer to hers. "I like a good, solid challenge anyways."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she nods and pulls him to her with a hand at the back of his neck. Sitting up a bit to close the space between them, she kisses him playfully, letting her tongue dance with his as she hums her sheer happiness against his lips. Dean still gave her that giddy, puppy love feeling, that fluttering in her stomach that she at one point in her life had conceded to the fact that she'd never get to feel again once she made the decision to hunt.

Scooting his knees up under her thighs and still sitting back on his heels, Lizzy lifts her legs to wrap them around Dean's waist, allowing him to get closer to her as she sits atop his upper legs. Circling her arms around his neck, she pulls herself up until their chests a pressed against each other. She kisses him again, slowly running her tongue across his full bottom lip as she does.

"I'm lucky I found myself such a frisky outlaw," Lizzy smiles out between heated kisses.

"Mmm," Dean hums while smiling, lips still attached to hers before speaking. "And I'm lucky," he kisses her. "I found a cop," kisses her again. "Who's willing to make," another kiss. "A deal with me."

With that, hands still cuffed behind his back, Dean leans forward, pushing her onto her back on the bed and hovering over her.  He makes eye contact for just a moment before lowering his head, mouth finding her neck.  Lizzy sighs loudly as his tongue drags across that _spot_.  He makes his way to her ear, whispering to her once he’s there.

“I might need a little help from you now and then.”

“What kind of help do you need, Mr. Winchester?” Lizzy asks, words dripping with lust.

“I would really appreciate it if you would take that shirt off, Officer Noonan,” his low, gravelly tone requests of her as he sits back on his heels once more, looking down at her with a sly smirk.  “I’d do it myself but my hands are a little tied.”

Lizzy doesn’t answer, just stifles her laughter at his lame comment before sitting up just enough.  She grabs the bottom hem of her white tank and swiftly pulls it over her head, tossing it onto the ground once off.  She barely has the shirt out of her hand before Dean’s lips crash into hers again, pressing her back into her lying position once more.  He backs away from the kiss and moves down her body, his teeth latching onto the waist of her sweatpants and pulling them down.  Lizzy assists him in lowering her pants down her legs and she kicks them off the bed quickly once they reach her feet.  Wasting no time in getting her completely naked, he returns to her waist and bites down on her black boy-short panties.  Again she helps him out a little and once her clothing is thrown aside, Dean happily returns to her lips.

Taking his time, he makes a path down her body, stopping to relish the light scar on her neck that a vamp back in Michigan left on her, the curve of her artfully sculpted collar bone that nature was nice enough to bestow, and the marred skin on her upper right chest from the time a vengeful ghost threw her into the corner of a desk before Dean places an innocent kiss in the valley between her breasts.

As Dean keeps moving, lavishing his mouth’s attention on her breasts as he does, Lizzy moans her appreciation while letting herself think briefly about how amazing it is that no matter what kind of sex they get into, whether it be serious, passionate, fun, fast, slow, kinky, or rough, there was always at least one moment in which Dean would surprise her by being genuinely loving and just so sweet.  It’s nothing she would have ever expected from him when they’d first met, but over the course of knowing each other and building on the love they have, it is an interesting aspect of who he is to her.  He’s quite the anomaly.

It’s when his mouth reaches its ultimate destination that she’s pulled out of her running thoughts and shoved right back into the current, extremely pleasing situation she’s found herself in.  God, he has a very skilled and highly capable tongue, and he knew how best to use it too, making quite the lethal combination.  Always starting slow and perfectly building her up just how she loved it, Lizzy applauds his patience and intuition.  And the sight of him in the moment, face half hidden from her and hands held behind his back, is just so far beyond fantastic. 

However, right now, this is surprisingly not what she was looking for.  It’s wasn’t normal for Lizzy to turn down such a wonderful expression of his love… or maybe lust… for her, but she isn’t Lizzy tonight.  She’s Officer Noonan.  She had a task to complete.  And moreover, _he_ was the one who was supposed to benefit the most from this.  She did make a deal after all.

“Mm, Mr. Winchester,” Lizzy interrupts his efforts, almost immediately regretting doing so when Dean lifts his head to look at her with slight confusion in his expression.  She reassuringly smiles down to him.  “I do appreciate your attempt to win my favor,” she tells him, running a comforting hand down the side of his face, “But this is not proving anything to me concerning the expert use of that concealed weapon.”

“It’s alright, Officer,” Dean grins up to her with pride.  “I really don’t mind.”  And he didn’t, not in the least.  In fact, being tucked between Lizzy’s legs has become one of his absolute favorite places to be.  It’s warm, inviting, and comforting… not to mention fun, and the possibilities are always endless when there.

“That’s very considerate of you,” Lizzy explains, sitting up on her knees.  “But I know what I want right now and it’s not that.”  She presses a finger to his lips indicating what she wasn’t looking for and smiles wider when he playfully licks it.

“That’s a shame.  I was having fun,” Dean comments while Lizzy pops her finger into her mouth, enjoying the taste of a mix of herself and him that his tongue left behind.  He lets out a barely audible groan at the spectacle.  It was always the little things she did, like that, that made him crazy.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Lizzy smirks, reaching her hands behind his back while still facing him.  “You’ll still be having plenty of fun.”  Using the key still in her grasp, she frees his right hand temporarily.  Hastily pulling his shirt over his head, she tosses it away like she already did her own clothing and turns him by his shoulders.  She presses her palms against his chest, easing him back into a lying position with his head just below the headboard.  Right where she wanted him.

“You are by far the coolest police officer I’ve ever come across,” Dean mentions while Lizzy straddles his still clothed hips.

“Glad I could help change your mind about the men… and women… in blue,” Lizzy remarks while scooting up his body a bit.  She takes his wrists again, the handcuffs still hanging off of his left forearm, and reaches toward the metal bars of the headboard.  She threads the open cuff around one of the bars and returns it to its locked position around his right wrist.  Looking down at him, she raises an eyebrow in question to make sure he’s comfortable enough now that his hands are cuffed above his head, Dean winking back his approval quickly.  Lizzy laces her hands within his, that flutter in her stomach showing up for a quick second, before trailing her fingertips down his arms.

“Oh, you are _definitely_ making me think better of law enforcement now,” Dean tells her, watching intently as she continues downward, dancing her hands over his bare chest and clutching onto the fabric that eventually gets in her way.  Grabbing both his pants and boxer-briefs, Lizzy pulls them down the length of his legs, moving back until she is standing at the foot of the bed.  The last of Dean’s clothing on the floor, Lizzy takes a moment for herself while slowly scanning over the body of the man she loves more than life. 

“Mm-mm-mm,” she comments, taking in the beautiful view.  Tight muscle under golden skin, the long line of his frame, every rough edged former wound, the glint in his green eyes, the scattering of freckles across his nose, the superb pair of lips, every inch of him, _literally_ , is perfection.  God damn did she love him.  It is times like these that she knows as fact that her life was indeed very, very good. 

“You like what you see, Officer?” Dean cockily comments up to her. 

Lizzy grins playfully without answering as she slowly crawls her way up his body, placing strategic licks and kisses as she does.  A low laugh rumbles in Dean’s throat as he keenly observes her while she is clearly enjoying herself, her full lips landing sporadically across his skin.  Her tattooed arm travels up his body ahead of the rest of her, the dark designs a complete contrast against his even toned skin.  She runs her hand over the side of his neck and down his stubbled jawline.

“My God, you’re beautiful,” he comments, breaking character as Lizzy sits up and once more perches herself atop his hips.  He couldn’t help it but soon enough gets back into it.  “Never knew cops were so sexy.”

“Never knew criminals could be so fucking hot,” she returns, pressing her hips down into his, eliciting a pleasure-filled moan from Dean with the movement.  “Guess it’s time to prove yourself, Mr. Winchester.  Hope you’re ready.”  Without waiting for a reply, Lizzy takes it upon herself to position Dean at the ready and slowly lowers onto him.  The delicious feeling, that first moment of intimate connection, makes both participants close their eyes and let the rush wash over them.

“So fucking ready,” Dean finally manages to sigh out as Lizzy leans forward to press her lips to his.  She then trails her lips to Dean’s ear while grinding slow, delectable circles with her hips.

“I didn’t realize how big your weapon was,” Lizzy quietly purrs while catching his earlobe between her teeth.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean exhales when her movements create a most satisfying sensation.  Instinctually, he moves to bring his hands to either side of her face and capture her lips again but his arms are greeted by the tug of metal keeping them in place.  It’s slightly frustrating to not have full control over his own body, but the annoyance fades away as her tongue runs down the length of his neck. 

“So good,” Lizzy hisses out, sitting up now with her hands pressed to Dean’s chest as she begins riding him with drive.  As she bounces on top of him, her verbal confirmation of her enjoyment grows in volume, sure to earn her looks of annoyance tomorrow morning from Sam and Bobby.  The thought does pop into her head but in the moment she can’t for the life of her find a solid reason to care.  It’ll be totally worth it.

“Turn around,” Dean suddenly call out, his inspired side taking over.  His request is met with little recognition.

“Why?” Lizzy asks, eyes closed and face concentrated as she doesn’t stop moving.  She had somewhere she wanted to get and certainly didn’t want to stop now.

“I know how best to use this weapon of mine, Officer,” Dean says to her, watching as Lizzy finally pauses and opens her eyes, looking at him with confused wonder.  He returns with a devilish smile.  “You should trust me.”

Lizzy looks down at her criminal with a mixture of curiosity at what he’s going for and minor frustration for stopping her.  Climbing off of him with a sad sigh, she straddles his hips once more but this time facing away from him.

“Sit back.  Put your feet on the bed,” Dean directs, having to vocally tell her what to do.  Normally he just takes charge with his actions, positioning her exactly how he wants with his hands.  Right now, Lizzy has cut off all chance of that happening so he speaks quickly with his anxious desire.

Following his commands, Lizzy leans back, hips lifted above his, feet planted into the mattress, and hands pressing into his chest behind her, propping her up. 

“Perfect,” he tells her.  “Now put me back in that pussy.”

After hearing him talk like that, using the direct and mission-filled tone that her brain always shatters upon hearing, Lizzy quickly returns him back to what she considers his rightful place within her. 

“You feel so fucking good.”  Dean knows he should keep it down, being that they’re at Bobby’s house and all, but when Lizzy’s worked him up this much, courtesy disappears completely.  

“Alright, outlaw,” Lizzy sighs out with a huge, devilish grin.  “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Aw, Officer Noonan,” Dean starts while laughing a little, bending his knees and digging his heels into the bed.  He smiles to himself with evil delight, knowing full well what he’s about to do to her.  “I just hope you can handle me.”

Going slow at first, he begins moving in and out of her with decisive ambition.  He knows that with the position they’re in, he’s hitting the right spot with every thrust.  He picks up the pace with his expanding impatience.  She felt too damn good to hold back any longer.

“Oh,” Lizzy’s voice calls out simply once she reaches that place where words aren’t exactly easy to form as the already building pleasure takes over.  “Oh… my… God.”

Dean smiles to himself with her struggled cries of bliss as he pushes her closer and closer to the edge, though he’s not going to be able to hold out too much longer if the view she gives him has anything to say about it.  With her perfect ass on full display before him, he’s practically ready to go.  Once again he finds himself annoyed by the handcuffs.  Her bare, round cheeks are just begging to be felt and grabbed.  God she has a fucking great ass.

Dean feels that familiar, intense tightening that lets him know he’s a goner soon.  Now he knows he needs to get her moving if he wants to prove his point to his own personal police officer before it’s too late. 

“Touch yourself,” he tells her between moans.  He can’t do it for her, so he asks her to do it herself.  Lizzy was never a shy person at times like these and had no problem doing that for him, removing one hand from his chest to bring it between her legs.

Lizzy moans louder than before with the change in sensation, her moment coming fast and furious now.  “Oh, oh yes.  Oh shit.”  Her one hand still on his chest clenches and her nails dig into his skin, giving Dean the heads up.

Lizzy just seconds later finds her release while she lets out her moment in a loud moan that would put most porn stars to shame.  She drops her head back behind her, giving Dean an upside-down view of her face that’s twisted and smiling with satisfaction.  It’s more than he could handle and stops trying to keep himself at bay. 

Opening her eyes with her head still hanging behind her just in time, Lizzy watches as Dean closes his, chin lowered to his chest and arms straining against their bindings.  Watching intently with sheer love and fascination, she recognizes the several emotions playing through his expression while feeling the all-encompassing pleasure.  She’ll never stop adoring getting to see that moment on him.

As both take a silent moment to enjoy the radiant and wonderful coming down, Lizzy smiles to Dean with her face still upside-down.  Her heart flutters one more time when he grins back with lidded eyes. 

“Alright.  It looks like you were telling the truth.  I guess I can let you go this time, Mr. Winchester,” she smirks to him.

“You’re too damn nice, Officer Noonan,” Dean breathes out with a wide grin, still blissfully content.  “L?”

“Yeah?” she brightly asks back, eyes wide.

“You’re so…” Dean grins out, unable to keep his happiness back any longer for what she just did for him. 

“Awesome?” she finishes, knowing what he was going to say.  He says this to her all the time so she knows what he wants to say.  “Yeah, I know.”  She lifts herself up and off of Dean, turning back around to face him and search the comforter for where she had dropped the key. 

“I know I say it a lot,” Dean tells her as she sits up and jingles the key now in her hand at him.  “But you are.”

“Of course I am,” she brushes off, leaning down to kiss him quickly.  “I’m with you aren’t I?” 

Lizzy begins unlocking his hands from the handcuffs and once they’re free Dean rolls his wrists as Lizzy sits next to him, legs tucked under her.

“Aww,” she coos and grabs his nearest wrist, massaging the skin there.  “Didn’t hurt, did it?”

Dean sees the genuine concern on her face and wants to laugh.  “What’s a little pain in exchange for some role playing fun, huh?”

“I agree,” Lizzy says.  “But we get hurt so much every damn day, I don’t want to add to it.”  She brings his wrist to her lips, kissing the inside of it sweetly and silently apologizing for causing the red marks now there.

“L, I’m ok.  Stop worrying so damn much,” Dean rolls his eyes.  She’ll never stop being a worried and protective person concerning him, he knows that, but sometimes it was too much.

“Crap,” Lizzy jumps off the bed when something dawns on her.  She beings rummaging through her bag as Dean watches and easily figures out what it is she’s doing.

“Forgot your pill again, didn’t you?” Dean asks her.  Sex always seemed to quickly remind her when she’d forgotten.

“Shut up,” Lizzy calls back with a smile, confirming Dean’s suspicions, as she grabs a t-shirt and shorts from her bag along with her birth control pills.  “I’m only like 2 hours late.  Doesn’t even count.”

“Don’t fuck with that stuff, L,” Dean warns her while sitting up, getting more nervous every time she forgets.  “Last thing we need right now is a kid thrown into the coming apocalypse.”

“Dude, what do you take me for?” Lizzy says with annoyance while pulling her shorts on.  “I’m not insane, ok.  A baby is not something even plausible right now.  Don’t worry, we’re still covered, ok?”

“Ok,” Dean responds, believing her and relaxing slightly.

“Plus when I actually do forget, you get blowjobs for a few days while I get back on track.  Win-win for you, buddy.”

Dean nods and makes a face to say he completely agrees.  He was so happy to find out that she is quite the blow job enthusiast a while back.  It was when he discovered she was selfless in all aspects of her life; she’s always concerned with the happiness of others. 

“I’ll be right back,” she says to him once her shirt is on.  “Gonna go take this.  I expect you to be gone by the time I get back.  And Mr. Winchester, don’t let me catch you around here again.”  She winks playfully before opening the door to their bedroom.  She turns to walk out and comes face to face with Bobby in the hallway, nearly walking right into him. 

“Hey Bobby,” Lizzy smiles, slamming the door shut behind her to keep a very naked Dean from sight.   

Bobby looks her over once with an eyebrow lifted.  He shares a narrow-eyed look while tipping the brim of his hat at her.  “Evening, officer.”

As Lizzy’s face turns bright red, Bobby huffs quietly and heads back to his room across the hallway.  Fucking kids.

* * *

 


	4. I Spy With My Little Eye

* * *

"Hey."

She knows the voice immediately and lightly pushes a blind hand out in the direction it's coming from. She makes contact with his face and keeps pushing, shoving him away in an attempt to keep sleeping.

"Nice try," Dean says muffled against the palm of her hand before he swats it aside.

"Fucking early," she complains while burying her face into her pillow, trying to hide from him unsuccessfully. She doesn't need a clock to know she's only had a few hours of sleep. Sometimes a bed that didn't have sandpaper sheets or a lumpy/spring-stabbing mattress is too damn hard to get out of. It was so, so,  _so_ comfortable and after their tiring day yesterday she has no idea how Dean can possibly be up already.

However, Dean had a plan and she  _was_  going to get up. Seeing her exposed neck as a perfect opportunity, Dean dives into her, his lips leaving rapid pecks on her neck. "Get… up… now… you… lazy… ass…" he directs as she recoils from the sensation.

"So tired, Hot Shot," she whines but laughs at his actions. She turns onto her side and reaches out for him with all intentions of pulling him back down and making him go back to sleep with her. This move was more often than not quite successful. Today, not so much.

"We're leaving in thirty," he grins while backing away from her reach and sitting up on the bed next to her. Lizzy's mouth turns up in a huge smile when she opens her eyes to see him for the first time. "Gotta get on the road if we're going to make it before sunset."

"We're really doing this?" she smiles up to him, not having fully believed that they were actually going to make the Vegas trip before right now. It seemed too good to be true that both Sam and Dean agreed to go last night so she hadn't banked on it truly happening.

"Yeah. You still want to, right?"

"Absolutely!" She sits up quickly and wraps her arms around his neck. "Thank you for this," she tells him.

"It's the least we could do," Dean says while pulling back. With all she does for them, they really did owe her one. Or maybe a million. "Now get your lazy ass outta bed already. The day's practically gone already."

"Who you calling lazy?" Lizzy challenges, knowing that usually it's the other way around in the morning. She was more of a morning person than he'll ever be, and that's not saying much. Lizzy's always been a night owl.

"Why you, officer." He grins slyly to her and Lizzy giggles with the name.

"You should really speak to authority figures with more respect, young man."

"Yeah, well I'm rebel," Dean jokes with his arms held out to the sides. "I do what I want."

"Don't make me put those cuffs back on you," she says and pulls him by the collar of his t-shirt into a kiss. She ends it far too soon for Dean's liking, but if they were supposed to get on the road on time, maybe it was a good thing. All it takes is one serious kiss to turn an innocent moment between the two of them into something far dirtier and they both know it. "I sure know how to keep a promise, don't I?"

"That you do," he agrees wholeheartedly while standing and grabbing the handcuffs she used on him just a few short hours ago off of the floor and tossing them to her. "You should pack those too."

"Will do," she grins while jumping out of bed and getting her things together.

* * *

"So…" Lizzy starts as she plugs her IPod into the cassette adapter she somehow was able to talk Dean into allowing in the Impala about a month ago. "Even though you don't think we should go, aren't you at least a little excited?" Selecting her playlist 'Easy Listening for Non-Pussies' to keep the music calm and quiet, the car is soon filled with the sound of the Allman Brother's 'Melissa.'

"I am," Dean honestly tells her as he pulls onto the highway. "I'm gonna assume that Cas will kill it for us at any given second with some obscure seal about to be broken, but until then I plan on taking advantage."

"You better," she playfully warns while kicking off her boots and plopping her feet into Dean's lap. She stretches across the front seat and leans her back against the door to face him. "And I am looking forwards to seeing the Winchesters let their hair down a little."

"Aren't we all," Dean remarks. "Though it looks like Sam already has a head start on the whole vacation thing back there."

Lizzy laughs quietly while glancing back, seeing Sam's long frame folded to fit across the backseat. He woke up just long enough to grab his things and get into the car. Considering it's still dark out, he easily fell back asleep the minute they got on the road.

"He looks so freaking cute all squished and sleeping with his mouth open like that," Lizzy jokes. There's something tranquil and innocent about the moment, the normally hulking and quite intimidating at times man suddenly looking so small and childlike. She adores getting to see it, knowing how rare this is for him.

"Just like when we were kids," Dean agrees. "Couldn't stay awake once the car started moving. Ha, I remember when he was a baby and he wouldn't stop crying, Dad would toss him in the backseat and drive around for a while until he passed out. Worked like a fucking charm every time."

"Hard to believe that giant was a baby once," Lizzy grins at the thought.

"Oh, don't let the current height fool you," Dean adds. "Sammy was a little runt until midway through high school."

"I somehow doubt that."

"It's true!" Dean swears to her. "He was like five feet zip until he was sixteen. The dude grew over a foot in less than a year when he was a junior."

"Talk about awkward," Lizzy laughs. "Must have been rough on him."

"Nah, he made it through. He was tough as nails even as a kid. Five feet tall or not, he could kick anyone's ass that got in his face." Dean pauses for a moment and peeks over to Lizzy as she watches the passing scenery with a yawn. "So, uh, how you doing?"

"I'm good, I guess," she answers, not sure exactly what he's asking her. "Keeping up with you two is tiring as shit, but I'm hanging tough."

"That you are," he agrees, dropping a hand onto her shin and squeezing. "L, we both want you to know you don't have to do any of this. It's ok if you want out at any time."

"Thank you, but I don't want out," she promises. "I could never sit at home knowing what fucked up shit is going on in the world."

"But what about your job?" Dean asks her. "You know you love bartending. And you were just days from being, as I believe you put it, a certified ass kicker."

Lizzy laughs at his recollection of her description. "I know, and I love both those things. I still want to schmooze with my regulars and definitely still want to teach self-defense, but if I don't help you two right now, there won't be a world for me to do either of those things in. I can't sit by for this one. I'm here because I do have to be. It's not a choice."

"Spoken like a truly insane person." Dean smiles over at her.

"Spoken like a true hunter," Lizzy corrects with a light nudge from her foot to his stomach.

"What's the difference?" Dean compromises.

"Rock salt," Lizzy giggles. "Plus, I was just plain getting tired of being away from you all the time. It was getting very old very quickly and I couldn't live like that anymore."

"I couldn't agree more," Dean admits, knowing the long time spans when they'd be apart were awful. He reaches across the car to take her hand in his. "Actually, I meant how are you doing with Lou being gone for a year?"

"Shitty," Lizzy answers quickly. "I miss her every damn day. You know, I still think about her all the time, still talk to her like she's still right by my side. Louie's never gonna leave me, and I don't want her to, but sometimes I wish it would just get a little easier, you know? It hurts so fucking much still." She realizes she's been rubbing her forearm through her winter coat the whole time she spoke of her friend. Her sadness washes over her and instead of let it win she shoves it down deep… a little trick she picked up from the boys.

"Then I'm glad we're honoring her memory the right way," Dean says, returning his hand to the wheel. "The way she'd want us to at least."

"Oh, she'd love that we're doing this," Lizzy confirms. "All she'd want from us is to be happy and smile now and then. And if we're gonna do this trip right, the true Lou way, you two better have your party pants on. She did Vegas hard, even too hard for me sometimes."

"Oh, bring it on, Lou," Dean challenges. "I am down."

"I'll remember you said that," she warns. "Though I can see you being right up there with Louie when it comes to pushing the fun limit, ha!"

"I do what I can," Dean replies with a smile.

"You know, sometimes I wish that Lou could see us now," Lizzy tells him. "I want her to know what the two of us have become. When she died, you and I were not in an even remotely good place and she really had it out for you."

"Can't blame her for that," Dean admits, knowing that at the point that Lou died, she should have been angry with him. He was downright mean for what he did to Lizzy, ignoring her for a year and keeping his life and deal with the devil from her, and being her best friend, Lou should have wanted to kill him.

"But I want her to know why you did what you did," Lizzy explains, watching the trees pass without really seeing them. "I want her to know that you  _are_  a good guy… an amazing guy. I want her to see how awesome we are together and that I'm happy." Lizzy pauses as Dean looks to her with a smile. "I am  _insanely_  happy," she adds with the bright, toothy grin he loves on her so much.

"I wish she could see that too," Dean agrees. "And even though she never really took a shining to me, I really liked her."

"Oh, she liked you plenty," Lizzy laughs. "You let her work on your car! She  _loved_  you! She just didn't like you with me, that's all."

"Again, I can't blame her."

"Oh me neither!" Lizzy tacks on. "If Sam was ever a dick to her like that, I'd probably drop his ass." Lizzy pauses a moment to think before continuing. "I wish Louie was still around for him too. Sam could've used having her this past year. I can't help but think that he might have done things differently if she'd been here."

"I'm sure he would've," Dean returns. "He listened to her. I don't know what she did or said, but she sure got through to him. Wish I knew what the secret was."

"Really good sex," Lizzy answers simply. Dean looks over and sees her face, confirming that she wasn't joking.

"Oh, is that all it takes?" Dean remarks.

"According to Lou," Lizzy explains. "One good fucking and Sam was an open book to her."

"Good to know, I guess," Dean answers, unsure how the information would ever help him.

"Man, Louie loved hooking up with your brother," Lizzy states. "Said he was a blast."

"He should be! Who do you think gave him advice his whole life," Dean gloats while sending her a slick look.

"Well, be proud, big brother," Lizzy says. "From what she said, you taught that man well."

"Good," Dean remarks, unable to stop the corners of his mouth from turning up with pride. "Poor kid, he was so nervous around girls when we were younger. He needed someone to give him a few nudges in the right direction."

"Sure needed a nudge in Lou's direction, which I'm sure you were also happy to provide!"

"Absolutely," Dean confirms. "She scared him at first I think. Then again, she kinda scared me."

"She always did come off a bit strong," Lizzy agrees. "Oh man, remember the time we walked in on them in that utility building in Oklahoma?"

"No, not really," Dean sarcastically returns. He'll never forget that, unfortunately. That brain stabbing imagery is burned in his mind.

"Apparently, that was the time when Lou found out about Sam having, and I quote, 'one of the most talented tongues she'd ever come across'."

"Wow, you are in an oversharing mood, you know that?" Dean informs her as he grows uncomfortable with the information a little.

"Hey, you were the one who just called himself Sam's sexual mentor," Lizzy defends herself with a giggle. "I figured you'd be happy to hear the glowing reviews. And come on, you  _had_  to have handed down some of your knowledge when it comes to  _that._ " Lou and Lizzy always had a very open dialogue about sex and after talking to Lou, she already knows this is true. The girls always loved comparing notes, discovering how similar and different the two Winchesters were. It started with contrasting their personalities as it was obvious right off the bat how different they were. They then went on to looks and once Louie managed her way into Sam's pants, naturally they progressed onto how they were in bed. Call it a sick pleasure, but they had fun with it. Correction, they had a blast with it.

"I may have given a few pointers here and there," Dean confirms.

"Like what?" Lizzy questions excitedly, curiosity killing her as she sits up a little taller, eyes wider with anticipation.

"Uh, like," Dean tries to remember the things he told Sam back in the day. "The proper use of the flat tongue."

"The flat tongue?" Lizzy inquires with a smirk. Dean sticks his tongue out, wide and flat, and licks the air upward slowly in demonstration. Lizzy shudders with the site, knowing exactly what that felt like. "Mm, that's one I truly appreciate."

"It's a good slow starter as you already know," Dean concurs, explaining its best use to her much like he did with Sam years ago.

"What about the suck and flick?"

"What's that?" Dean laughs at the name she's given it.

"You know, when you suck at the same time as you flick your tongue back and forth," Lizzy explains. "That's what Louie and I called it. The suck and flick."

"Oh, _that_  suck and flick," Dean laughs off. "Yeah, I may have passed that one on. It's a valuable skill to have in the arsenal."

"Works like a charm on me."

"Oh yeah. That one usually gets you where you're going," Dean says, knowing just how true it was. He's learned by now what makes her tick and this move was one of his favorites to use on her.

"Lou too," she informs him. "If she were here right now, she'd be thanking you big time."

"Well where ever she is, she's more than welcome."

"What do you think would have happened with those two if she hadn't died?" Lizzy wonders aloud.

"Who knows," Dean responds, hoping to brush the question under the rug. No such luck.

"I think something would've come of it," she admits, having run the scenario out in her head several times. "Lou really had a thing for Sam.

"I think the what-if game sucks," Dean states, finding it hard to think about how much better his brother's life could be. With having Lizzy in his, he wants nothing more than for Sam to have that too. It hurt to think that Sam's had two women in his life that could have filled that void but they both passed away, leaving him alone.

"It does, wicked bad," Lizzy says. "But my brain plays it whether I want it to or not."

"I just can't let myself think that way," Dean explains. "Having you has made my life so much better and Sam doesn't have that. I  _hate_  that he doesn't have that and thinking about what could have been only makes it that much worse."

"You're right," Lizzy says, agreeing completely while seeing his sadness. "Let's not talk about it. Let's talk about how we're going to make our time pass quicker in this car."

"I'm willing to take suggestions." Dean sends a smile her way, appreciating the chance to have light-hearted conversation instead of doom, gloom, and misery.

"Well, I have a couple joints rolled in my pocket, but I'd rather wait for Sam on those. He's a fucking great little stoner. I want to include him."

"Oh, please do," Dean laughs, remembering the last time she managed to get Sam to smoke. He was praising Pink Floyd and giggling like a school girl. It was awesome.

"We could play I spy." Lizzy makes the suggestion with all seriousness and Dean looks over to her with a face that could only be described as disappointed. "Oh, come on, you know you want to," she pushes.

"You are so lame," Dean digs.

"So are you, so it works," she quickly says. "I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter D."

"Are we really doing this?" Dean complains, not fully buying that she wants to play a kids car-ride game with him.

"Yes and if you don't have fun in the first round, we'll stop, ok party pooper?" Lizzy does her best to get him on board.

"Fine," Dean gives in. He's found himself giving in a lot since he's met her so what's one more time? "Dashboard."

"No," Lizzy huffs out at his not even close answer. "Try again."

"Dial... on the radio."

"Sorry, not it," she taunts.

"Dean!" he guesses while pointing to himself, thinking he's being cleaver.

"You're warmer," Lizzy responds, her sock-cover foot suddenly running over the zipper of his jeans.

"L, what are you doing?" Dean asks, suddenly getting the feeling her version of I spy is different than most.

"Playing I Spy," she says, sitting up and moving across the bench seat to press up against him, her hand replacing her foot. "Keep guessing."

"Begins with D, huh?" Dean checks his facts as Lizzy unbuttons his pants.

"Sure does," she whispers, lips landing on his neck, nipping and sucking lightly as he feels his zipper opening.

"L, Sam's a really light sleeper," he warns, nervous to have his brother in the back seat while Lizzy attempts to make his drive that much better.

"Then you're gonna have to keep  _really_ quiet then, aren't you?" she tells him, tongue running over the shell of his ear as her hand finds its way into his jeans. "You haven't figured it out yet."

"Wild guess," he whispers out, now hyper aware of his volume. "Is it my dick?"

"Ding-ding-ding," Lizzy quietly calls out as she frees him from his clothing. "Give the man a prize."

With that, she lowers her head.

"Oh my God," Dean breathes out while doing his best to keep focused on the road as her mouth takes him fully in. "You're fucking awesome."

* * *

 


	5. One If By Land, Two If By Sea

* * *

The sounds of Lizzy's 'Stoner Bashing Time' playlist fills the Impala as they make their way through the middle of Colorado. 'Let's Go Get Stoned' is currently on while Sam burns down the last of the joint pinched between his finger and thumb. He flicks the roach out the window and proceeds to sit back lazily in the passenger seat, slumping low and plopping his head onto the top of the seat's back. Lizzy smiles proudly over to him from behind the wheel.

"Time off was a great idea, huh Sam-I-Am?" she grins out at the red eyed and overly relaxed expression on Sam's stress-free face that she hasn't had the luxury of seeing in far too long.

"Oh yeah," he drawls quietly without looking at her. Instead he had his head turned to the side with his cheek resting on the leather seat. He's currently drawn to the look of passing scenery as they fly down the highway, the trees and signs all burring together. Lizzy always had a bit of a lead foot and lucky for her Dean was stretched across the back seat with his eyes closed, not paying attention whatsoever to how fast she was driving his car. Even if he normally broke the speed limit by at least ten miles per hour himself, anyone else doing so in his baby would be subject to retribution, even Lizzy.

"So I think I need to give you two a heads up," Lizzy begins her warning while staring straight ahead. "If we're going to do this trip right, you need to be prepared to do it Louie and my way."

"You act like I don't know how to get down, L. Don't worry about this guy," Dean comments while pointing his thumb at himself without opening his eyes. "You just need to worry about Debbie Downer over to you right."

"You sure you're up for this?" Lizzy questions, eyebrows lifted with a glance Sam's way. She waits but gets no answer as he keeps his sights trained out the window as they drive along. "Sam!"

"Yeah?" he finally returns, snapping his head around to meet Lizzy's gaze, his expression showing how out of it he really is.

"You alright in there?" she questions with a chuckle.

"Fine," he answers while shaking the clouds from his head and eliciting another giggle from Lizzy. "Just thinking about stuff. Kinda got lost in my own head there for a minute."

"That's just the ganj working its magic," Dean quips from behind them.

"What 'ya thinking about?" Lizzy pries, knowing Sam would tell her. He told her everything on his mind when high.

"Uh, honestly… Lou," Sam answers. "And how it'd be cool if she were with us right now."

"That would be perfect, wouldn't it?" Lizzy concurs, her voice briefly filled with longing.

"Yeah, it would," Sam further agrees, his sadness coming through clearly. Sad is not the emotion Lizzy wants to have mark this trip. She wants to celebrate all the greatness that was her best friend, not dwell on the negative so she does what she can to get Sam to do the same.

"But she can't be here, so we need to honor her the right way… by doing the Drunk-dom Trail."

"Ah, excuse me, but… the what?" Dean questions.

"The Drunk-dom Trail," Lizzy simply repeats. "Wicked lame sounding name, I know. We came up with it while hammered on our second Vegas trip together. So, back in Boston there is this thing called the Freedom Trail…"

"Old North Church," Sam comments hazily, immediately naming one of the historic stops on the trail.

"Among other things, yes," Lizzy laughs at Sam's single example. "It's a historical tour of the city. Louie and I made our own less historical and more shit-faced version out in Las Vegas."

"Alright," Dean excitedly says while finally sitting up. "Now we're talking here. What are the stops?"

"Well, first, we head to a dive joint we had found," she explains. "It's a bit out of the way but it's filled with cheap beers and suckers with deep pockets. Easy pickings for hustling ourselves a nice wad of cash to play with during the rest of the trip."

"Nice," Dean smiles, already on board with this plan. "We're pretty cash poor right now and I am not leaving without spending at least a few hour at the tables."

"One if by land, two if by sea," Sam remarks while looking out the side window again. "They came by sea, you know?" He peers over to Lizzy, a look on his face letting her know he's trying to inform her as if she wasn't already aware.

"No shit…" she sarcastically jokes while holding back her laugh. "I always thought the British marched down from Canada."

"Jesus, Lizzy," Sam huffs with a head shake while looking back out the window. "You need to read a book or… something." Lizzy does laugh this time with his sincere belief that she wasn't aware of the story of Paul Revere.

"Alright, Cheech. Try to stay with us here, huh?" Dean says to his brother, very lightly slapping the side of his face a couple times and getting Sam to swat him away. Dean returns his attention back to Lizzy. "So we line our pockets with the money of the drunk and stupid. Then what?"

"We head to a casino, baby," she happily informs them. "We liked Hard Rock a lot. They always had great music playing, generally staying away from top forty bullshit when possible. They also had a ton of tables and the bars there are great for when we were done gambling and wanted to just get plain wasted."

"I'm still with you," Dean grins. This plan so far is pretty solid, he thinks to himself.

"We lost the Battle of Bunker Hill," Sam cuts in, unable to focus on anything besides his interest in American history at the moment.

"Ah, yeah," Lizzy answers with a little disbelief. "Most people don't know that though."

"But we put up a hell of a fight and made the British hard for that win. It was a victory in a way…"

"Jesus," Dean mutters, getting annoyed with Sam's inability to stay on topic. "No more weed for this fucking kid."

"Shut up," Sam brushes off annoyed. "Jerkface."

"Oh, so I haven't even gotten to the best part yet of my trail yet," she smiles to Dean in the rearview mirror. "We saved the best stop for last. Before ending the night, we go spend some of our earnings at Club Paradise."

Dean sits up a little taller in his seat. He is no dummy when it comes to the best places in Vegas. He knows exactly what Club Paradise is.

"You and Lou's last stop on your little Vegas trail is a strip club?" he questions with near incredulity. Too good to be true. Way too good.

"Oh yeah," Lizzy grins. "The first time we went to Vegas, we hooked up with this crazy bachelor party. We ended up going there with the group and had a fucking blast. It became part of our routine after that. We even have a favorite girl."

"Whoa," Dean laughs, his hands held up in front of himself. "This trip was the best idea you've ever had."

"Knew that last detail would win you over once and for all. And I did tell you we knew how to do Vegas right. Wasn't lying."

"No you weren't," Dean comments with glee. "Ah, strippers, Sammy!" Dean drops his hand on Sam's shoulder, shaking him with his excitement. "Strippers!"

"Yeah, awesome," Sam comments, his mind clearly far away and not on the conversation they are currently having. "Hey, Lizzy?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever check out Old Ironsides?" Sam inquires.

"In fifth grade," Lizzy informs him. "Went on a field trip to do the whole entire Freedom Trail. Took forever, but I saw everything. It was pretty fun."

"Such an old piece of history," Sam comments. "The damn thing is so old and it's still floating in the harbor. Think about that. A boat made hundreds of years ago is still there, still going strong. That's fucking crazy."

"Didn't know you were such a history buff." Lizzy narrows her eyes at him, learning more about just who Sam is as his rambling thoughts spill from his mouth.

"Gotta know where you come from, right?" Sam responds. "Those who don't know their history…"

"Are doomed to repeat it," Lizzy finishes for him, Sam smiling back at her with their shared sentiment.

"Oh my god! Exactly!" Sam nods his head, so happy to be able to carry on a conversation like this with someone for once.

"Amen dude," Lizzy says, holding her hand up and receiving a high-five from Sam. "It's so fucking true. And so many people don't have any appreciation these days for how their own country came to be."

"Which is a fucking shame because our history is so unique compared to practically every other country."

"I know!" Lizzy nearly shouts, now excited by Sam's knowledge and love for American history. She always had a true interest in it herself and it was nice to have someone to share that with. "Dude, I promise the next time we're back out my way, we're so doing the Trail together." Lizzy watches as Sam's grin grows wider with the vow.

"Yeah?" he cheerfully asks.

"Oh, hell yeah!"

"I would love to do that with you."

"Uh," Dean complains while lying back down in the backseat. "A day of voluntary learning. Sounds about as fun as drilling a hole in my fucking head."

"Just because you don't like being an educated and informed person doesn't mean others don't find it fascinating," Sam comments. "You could actually learn a thing or two from something like that. You should do it with us."

"The only thing I want to do is drink my face off and check out the ladies of the night like ol' Ben Franklin used to do. Now that's a founding father I can get behind."

The car grows quiet with Dean's words, Lizzy and Sam exchanging curious looks before staring back at Dean.

"What?" Dean asks with slight anger. "I'm not a total fucking moron. The dude was legendary. He had hoes in every area code. And country!"

"Figures that'd be the only founding father he knows about," Sam says quietly to Lizzy.

"Not the only one I know, Sammy," Dean informs. "Just the one I respect the most."

"I have to say, good choice in favorite," Lizzy agrees with Dean.

"Hey," Sam suddenly perks up when he gets a great idea, his mind finally letting itself think of something new. "We should put on some Pink Floyd."

"There he is!" Lizzy smiles as Stoney Sam, as she likes to refer to him as, finally shows up. "Sam-I-Am, I would love to listen to some Floyd, but I think this time you need to discover the excellence of Jimi Hendrix..."

* * *

"This place is… kinda gross," Lizzy observes as Dean holds the motel door open for her. "Thank you," she says to him as she passes by and walks into the dark room. Dean walks in after her and Sam on his heels.

"Yeah, we've had better," Sam comments after turning the light on and looking around. The room looks like it was once brightly colored but the fading over time has made the room feel dingy. The red carpet, red curtains, and red bedspreads are almost enough to give a person a migraine.

"Smells like an ashtray in here," Dean comments, finding it an odd scent to come across when they had asked for a non-smoking room. Maybe there was a reason the old, grumpy lady at the front desk laughed with his request.

"Lucky for us we won't be in here too often," Lizzy remarks, heading straight for the bathroom, bag still in hand. "I plan on being out and about as much as possible."

"So, I don't know about you two, but I'm starving," Dean announces as he plops his bag on the bed nearest the door and rubs his stomach.

"Shocking," Sam remarks and a pillow sails through the air at his head. He brings an arm out in front of himself last minute, catching it before it could hit him square in the face. "Oh, come on. Not my fault you're always hungry."

"Which is why you shouldn't be shocked," Dean explains.

"Well, I'm hungry too… don't say it," she points at Sam, knowing he was going to make a similar comment aimed at her. "Give me like fifteen minutes to get ready, then we can grab something to eat and head to the bar. I'm ready get fucked up and make some money."

"That's oddly whore-ish," Dean lets her know. "L, try not to say things like that."

"Ok, fine. I'm ready to head out to the street corner and make twenty bucks the hard way. Better?" She stands in the doorway of the bathroom with a shit eating grin sent Dean's way.

"That's cute," he returns with an unimpressed expression. "Go get ready. I'm wasting away as we speak."

With an eye roll, Lizzy shuts the door and proceeds to freshen up for the night after the long drive into Las Vegas.

As soon as they can hear the faucet running, Sam turns to Dean with concern in his face.

"Is it me or is she taking Lou being gone a year a lot better than she should be?" Sam asks Dean, knowing if anyone will know what's up with Lizzy it'll be him.

"It's not you," Dean answers, a hand washing down his jaw with Sam's question.

"I thought there'd be a lot less excitement and a whole lot more tears than this," Sam tells him.

"So did I," Dean adds. "And I'm sure in a few days we'll find her locked up somewhere, drunk off her ass on Jack. Just give it time, Sammy. She'll do her grieving thing sooner or later."

"Then what's with the show?" Sam asks. "Why are we here and pretending Lou's death doesn't suck?"

"Because that's what she needs right now," Dean explains while pulling fresh clothes out of his bag. "I know her, man. She's doing whatever she can to get past this without falling back into the same depression she lived in for most of this past year. She doesn't want to go back to that, so she's fighting it by doing the opposite."

"She tell you all that?" Sam questions, curious as to how Dean would know exactly what she's thinking.

"Nope," Dean replies, piling the clothes in his arms. "But that's the beauty of Lizzy. I get her. And, that's what I would do in the same situation."

"Huh," Sam nods, thinking his brother's statement over while he watches Dean head to the bathroom. Without knocking, he opens the door.

"Rude," Lizzy comments, the faucet now turned off while she leans over the sink, face close to the mirror as she applies her eyeliner.

"What? I thought I was being considerate," he jests while dropping his clothes on the closed toilet seat and then reaches for the door. "I just assumed you'd want to watch me change." He shuts the bathroom door while Lizzy laughs and Sam sighs his frustrations.

"Guys, no sex in the bathroom please," Sam asks of them. "I'm right here."

"No promises, Sammy!" Dean shouts out.

"Fucking great," Sam mutters while he gets clothes for himself. He starts to change when he hears Lizzy's voice.

"Oh yeah," she calls out exaggeratedly while banging on the door. "Oh Dean! Fuck me! Yes!"

"Very funny," Sam shouts back as he hears Dean laugh at Lizzy's joke. Sam shakes his head before mumbling to himself, "Can't believe I'm stuck with these two for even longer."

* * *

 


	6. Next Stop, Stripper Town

* * *

"I'm not drunk!" Dean slurs out. "You're drunk. Let's fucking play."

Lizzy keeps a keen eye on the two as they attempt to run train on the poor, stupid souls at the pool table. She decided to go to the bar and grab a beer while they do what they do best at dive bars, though she observes the hustle carefully and is ready at the drop of a hat to jump in if anyone gets too pissed off. She's great in a bar fight. Most men aren't willing to hit a girl and she's not afraid to get a little dirty if need be.

"Dean. C'mon man," Sam pretends to be concerned. "You're hammered. You shouldn't be betting money right now."

"Shut up, Sammy," Dean says while he sloppily racks the balls. "M' fine."

"Oh yeah. You're just perfect," Sam rolls his eyes and reaches out to grab Dean's arm. "Dude, let it go."

One of the unfortunate victims of their hustle decides to interject at this point. "Hey buddy," he calls over to Sam while taking a few steps forward. He isn't as tall as Sam, but he's huge… and quite intimidating. Of course Dean would seek out this guy to lay the hustle on. "He's just a little tipsy. If he wants to play for money, then let him play for money. It was his dumbass idea anyways."

Sam, keeping the grin that he wants to let out so badly at bay, lowers his eyebrows to appear worried. He looks to Dean who gives him a wink when no one is paying attention. "Alright. Just don't ask to borrow cash from me later, moron."

Sam walks away, hearing Dean try to up the amount they're betting on all the while, and takes up the stool next to Lizzy at the bar.

"Got ya' a beer," Lizzy tells him, sliding the bottle over to him.

"Thanks," Sam smiles, and happily takes up the drink, eying Dean the entire time.

"It's kinda fun, you know," Lizzy says. "Watching you two work a hustle like that."

"Ha, yeah," Sam laughs. "Dean plays a good drunk. Must be all the practice."

"No, I mean it's good to see you guys working together so seamlessly. No tension, not arguing. It's like old time, like it should be. I miss that."

Sam nods and takes a long pull from his beer. He likes actually working with his brother for once too. Granted they were always working together on hunts, but the rift between them feels smaller for once.

"I really miss that," Lizzy repeats, just to make sure her point gets across.

"I know you do," Sam returns before muttering lowly to only himself. "So do I."

They hear the loud sound of a pool cue smashing hard into the rack of balls and Lizzy smiles.

"I love that," Lizzy says as she watches the shocked faces of the men Dean made a bet with after he breaks. "Fucking priceless."

"Yeah, now we just have to hope they don't try to beat his ass," Sam comments.

"Keeping my fingers crossed," Lizzy smiles before turning to face Sam in her stool. "So, ah, how are  _you_  doing with all this, with Louie being gone this long? I've been asked already, but you haven't."

"I can say I doubt I'm doing as well as you are," Sam remarks. "Las Vegas isn't exactly what comes to mind when I think of Lou's passing."

"Just trying to make the day better," Lizzy explains. "Though I don't think I'm doing as well as you think I am."

"Then you're a hell of an actress," Sam huffs. "Coulda fooled me."

"Losing her was the worst thing that's ever happened to me," Lizzy says in a moment of honesty. "Worse than losing my parents even. I put up a good front when truthfully, the only thing keeping me together at this point is you two."

Sam smiles sadly at her words. He's found her alone and crying a few times this past year, each one hurting more than the last. Now and then the misery takes her and she shatters but he and Dean are always there to pick up the pieces and put her back together.

"We try," Sam answer while looking around the room. "Not like we haven't been there before ourselves." He sees two men playing darts in the corner. They're not bad at the game, but not great either. Easy pickings. "What do you say we go play a game of darts?" Sam suggests while nodding to his intended targets. Lizzy smiles wide to him.

"Sounds like a plan," Lizzy answers, jumping down from her stool and grabbing his hand. "We're doing drunken couple on this one. Let them win the first?"

"Definitely," Sam smiles.

They've run their game like this before; Lizzy making sure to be super sloppy looking while hanging all over Sam or Dean and acting distracted completely, just to ensure that they look like free money. They make their way across the room and Lizzy starts to alter her posture and gate.

"Hi," Lizzy laughs while linking an arm in Sam's, pulling him down a little while unsteady on her feet, and looks at the two men mid-game. "Mind if we play too?"

* * *

After hustling a solid four hundred dollars off of unsuspecting saps at the rundown dive bar, the three holidaying hunters gambled for a few hours, drank for a few more, and found themselves smiling for nearly an entire night. It was a beautiful change of pace of them, fun replacing fear for once and they fully embraced the opportunity. They exit the Hard Rock casino once they've had enough and step into the cooling night air with beers in hand. The strip is fully lit up now, flashing neon colors all around and Lizzy pauses for just a moment, sighing at the view.

"To Louie," Lizzy announces as she holds her beer high in the air. "The person who brought us together to celebrate her amazing life."

"And the person that we miss very much," Sam adds, bringing his own cup to hers, Dean following suit.

"And still love dearly," Lizzy tacks on. "Cheers, best friend." Lizzy immediately downs the entire contents of the plastic cup. Sam and Dean follow her lead and they stand in their small circle quietly for a moment, remembering the reason they were there.

"Ok," Lizzy breaks in, ready to end the silence and sadness before it consumes her and ruins her plans for the night. "Let's keep going before I start crying and shit. Last stop, stripper town!"

"It's about fucking time," Dean grins, excited as a kid on Christmas morning. He's more than ready to enjoy a night of sex-filled debauchery with Lizzy. This is something they've never done together and, both being very adventurous people, they looked forward to this part of the night very much.

"Yeah, ah, you guys go on ahead," Sam says to them. "I'm gonna head back to the motel."

"What!" Lizzy shouts her disappointment in him. "Sam! Strippers! C'mon, it'll be fun!"

"Dude, I just made a few easy bills playing poker," Dean tells him. "Lap dances are on me, brother." He offers in the hopes that he can get Sam to come with.

"Nah, it's ok," Sam smiles. "You two have fun. I'm gonna catch some sleep."

"Sam, I want you to come," Lizzy explains, linking an arm through his and pouting up at him exaggeratedly.

"That's sweet of you but I'm good," Sam laughs. "Just go have fun. I'm ok, just a little tired."

"Fine," Lizzy gives in with an exasperated tone when she recognizes that he won't be changing his mind. "But you're gonna miss out!"

"I'm sure I am. You cool with taking a cab?" Sam asks Dean, really just looking to take the Impala back and ensure Dean won't try to drive later that night once he's completely plowed.

"Yeah," Dean answers tossing the keys to Sam. "And don't wait up." Dean grabs Lizzy's hand quickly and begins nearly running down the strip toward Club Paradise. "Could be a late one!"

"Night, Sam!" Lizzy shouts back over her shoulder while giggling at Dean's behavior.

Watching the two swiftly make their way, laughing the entire time with Lizzy nearly tripping as Dean pulls her along, Sam smiles to himself. They were an interesting pair, the two of them. Most wouldn't be that excited about heading into a club filled with naked women together, but Dean is who he is and Lizzy is one hell of a secure girlfriend. Just seeing them so happy and carefree as they ran toward the den of sin is a small wonder. They've done their best to have as normal a relationship as they could, but their lives were difficult. Moments of just pure fun were hard to come by and it's a thrill for Sam to witness the fleeting and rare moment.

Walking slowly back to the car once they were out of sight, the realization hits Sam hard; this may just be his life for good. Dean and Lizzy together and Sam being the lonely guy on the side. Dean's happy, it's clear to see, and for Sam if one of them is happy, they both are to a certain extent. But really, the sight of them makes him miss Lou in times like this. After he lost her, he realized how much he needed her. He missed having someone besides his brother to run to when shit got to be too much. Lou used to understand him and now, the loneliness without her is starting to become crushing.

And it wasn't just that, he thinks while spotting the car in the lot. Sam missed Lou for other reasons too. More intimate reasons. More emotional reasons. After really searching deep, he realized much too late that he loved her. Really, truly loved her. Maybe it was Jess that made him overlook, or flat out ignore, what he felt for Lou while she was alive. It made him feel like he was betraying her memory in a way. Whatever it was, it made Sam hold back and now it was too late.

He unlocks the Impala door and folds himself into the driver's seat. Turning the key to start the car, 'Runnin' Down a Dream' plays over the local rock station immediately and Sam sighs as he drops his forehead onto the steering wheel. Tom fucking Petty. Her favorite.

"Fucking shame you couldn't stick around, Lou. Could really use you right now," Sam mutters to himself as he lifts his head, throwing the car in reverse to back out of the parking space to head back. "And I never got to tell you how I feel. I regret that, God do I regret that. Damn, sure wasted my time when I had it with you, didn't I?"

* * *

"God damn, you're awesome," Dean grins out while scanning the scene inside Club Paradise. Lizzy is holding his hand and guiding him expertly through the venue that is light up in all colors and packed to the gills with mostly male patrons. They pass quickly by tables and cheetah-print upholstered swiveling chairs on their way to the main stage.

"Get the lead out, Hot Shot," Lizzy calls to him over themusic. "My girls about to go on!"

" _You're_  girl?" Dean questions with eyes bugging out of his head.

"Yeah, my girl. The bouncer just told me she was up next."

"You really have a favorite girl?"

"I wasn't lying to you," Lizzy answers, arriving at their destination. A single chair is open at the end of the long stage and she pulls him in front of it. She presses his shoulders down until he's sitting and then drops down onto his lap. Turning slightly sideways to face him, Lizzy grins wide. "She's amazing. Insanely talented  _and_  she's really sweet. And fun."

"What're you, bff's forever with her?" Dean jokes, surprised with how well she knows this one stripper. She obviously didn't exaggerate about coming here often.

"No," Lizzy laughs, bringing her arms around his neck. "But, she's been good to Louie and me in the past when we've come here. And we've gone drinking with her a few times on her off nights. Just trust me, you're gonna love her."

"If you do, then I'm sure I will too," Dean smirks, one of his hands landing softly on the side of her face and pulling her into a kiss, a thank you of sorts for bringing him here. They haven't seen a thing yet, but it doesn't matter. Dean's still sure he's about to have an excellent night. Soon enough, the two are shamelessly making out, fueled of course by the solid about of liquor already in their systems, and Lizzy lets out a quick little moan low in her throat before they're attention is pulled elsewhere.

"Excuse me you two," a scantily clad blond woman says while dropping a hand on Dean's shoulder to get their attention. Both look up at her expectantly, noting the tray of empty glasses in her hoisted hand. "Trust me, I hate to interrupt, but if I don't, the strippers will get mad at you for stealing away all the attention."

"Sorry," Dean quietly apologizes, though not really meaning it.

"Mm, don't be, honey. Would you like some drinks over here?" the server offers, smiling wide at them.

"Jameson rocks," Lizzy places her order as she runs the pad of her thumb across Dean's lips, getting rid of her lip-gloss that came off on him.

"Same," Dean calls out, barely paying attention to the nearly naked woman standing next to him as he his gaze is fixed on Lizzy.

"I'll be right back," she winks to Lizzy before leaving them.

"Shit," Dean complains when he comes back to reality. "What'd I just order?"

"Awesome in a glass," she responds, fingers running down the side of his face. "On the rocks."

"Fucking rock," Dean complains with a grin. "Waters everything down."

"That's why you down it fast before the ice melts," Lizzy informs him.

"You're so smart," he says, kissing her quickly one last time before the announcer starts.

_Now taking the main stage, show you're love gentlemen, because you are about to witness the beautiful, the talented, the sweet tooth-inducing… the one, the only, Ginger Snap!_

Lizzy begins her loud and enthusiastic hollering, excited to see her favorite stripper in action once more as Dean prepares for the show.

As The Stooges 'Never Met a Girl Like You Before' starts, they both watch as the curtains at the top of the stage part, revealing Ginger Snap. Her back is to the cat-calling audience, a hand fisted into the curtains at either side of her. Long, fiery-red hair cascading down her back, she sways her hips seductively and puts her round backside on full display as her cheeks just peek out from under her tight pleather hot pants. Spinning sharply around to face the crowd, she leans forward slowly, hands running down her legs and over the knee-high, black, shiny boots she's wearing.

"You officially have great taste in women, L," Dean comments to Lizzy as she watches perched atop his lap. "God, I  _love_  that I just said that."

Ginger Snap slowly stands back up tall, her smooth tanned skin aglow in the lights, and deliberately begins making her way down the stage. She moves fluidly as she does and takes the time to stare down each one of the men looking up at her in wide wonder. This woman knew how to work a crowd.

"Just wait," Lizzy tells him, knowing how much better she gets to watch. Reaching the pole at the end of the stage, Ginger Snap wastes no time in showing off her aerial skills, eventually suspending herself upside and sliding slowly downward. On her way to the floor, her bright green eyes come in contact with Lizzy's for the first time. A look of surprised recognition sets in immediately and Lizzy shares her wide, toothy grin with the stripper. Once off the pole and on the stage floor, she begins a sexy, seductive crawl in Lizzy's direction.

Dean sits still, amazement in his eyes as the dancer makes her way to them. Lizzy may have not told him just how frequent a flier she was in this place but he sees now that she is somewhat of a regular. And he has no problem with that. In fact, he full condones it.

Lizzy turns to Dean, her hand reaching into his back pocket and swiping his wallet from him.

"I feel the sudden urge to show my love for her skillful work," she tells him playfully while pulling out several of the bills he'd just earned at the casino before replacing his wallet to its rightful place. She pulls a ten dollar bill out of the stack and folds it in half the long way. Biting it between her teeth, she winks while wrapping the rest of the cash in Dean's fingers before standing to face the stage.

Dean can't help but be consumed by sheer awe when he watches Lizzy lean forward over the edge of the stage, he ass sticking out in his direction as Ginger Snap crawls right up to her. The men watching the stripper all drop their jaws open when they watch Ginger Snap bite down on the other end of the bill and take it from Lizzy. Lizzy then pushes up on her tiptoes to whisper something in the dancer's ear that Dean can't hear.

"Come find me after," Lizzy requests and earns herself a nod of agreement before Ginger Snap stands up again. Turning around but staying in front of her favorite customer, she slowly lowers her shorts, taking her time getting them down her legs and onto the floor before stepping her very high heeled boots out of the clothing, revealing a small black thong underneath. She removes the money from her teeth and tucks it into the strap of her thong while staring at Lizzy before making the rounds to the rest of her onlookers.

"I died, didn't I?" Dean asks with one of the biggest smiles Lizzy's ever seen him have. She drops back into his lap, sitting sideways once more so she can look at both him and Ginger Snap alternately. "We never made it. We crashed, I died, and now I'm in fucking heaven, right?"

"No baby. You're alive," she reassures with a slow, drawn out kiss to his lips. "You just came to Vegas with the right girl. That's all."

The couple sits with their now delivered drinks and enjoy the show Ginger puts on for them, her well versed use of the shiny gold pole amazing Lizzy more than it had ever before. The woman's picked up some moves since the last Vegas trip she made and she's highly impressed. So much so, that right before the stripper ends her time on the main stage, Lizzy is compelled to make sure she knew just how good she's gotten.

Pulling a twenty out of Dean's hand, she folds it much like she had before and holds it out for Dean to take between his teeth. Not being one to deny her  _anything_  she wanted from him at the moment, he obliges her. Lizzy then stands up, pulls him to his feet, and pushes him toward the stage with a slap on the ass before taking his seat from him. She lounges back and notices the few stares she's getting from the neighboring patrons. Lizzy proudly smiles their way before focusing as Ginger Snap, devoid of any clothing beside her thong, sees Dean and makes her way over. Standing with her legs apart at the edge of the stage in front of him, she bends over at the waist with straight legs and ass out. She brings her ample breasts to his face, pressing them together to grab the twenty between them from his teeth. Lizzy hollers her appreciation from the chair as Ginger Snap winks to her over Dean's head before her set is done and she makes her way back through the curtains.

Dean turns back to Lizzy who is sitting back nonchalantly and sipping the last of her whiskey in exaggerated indifference. "Holy shit."

"Fucking A right, man," Lizzy smiles while standing up. "You can't say that she isn't awesome."

"Oh no," Dean quickly agrees. "She's very awesome. And very much into you." The several glances Lizzy's way while the dancer was performing would confirm it.

"Whenever Lou and I would come in here, she made out pretty well," Lizzy explains. "Drunkenness equals me being very generous with my money."

"Or  _my_  money?" Dean tacks on.

"Same thing," Lizzy brushes aside his comment. "Come on, let's get some shots before she comes looking for us."

"She's gonna be looking for us?" Dean questions hopefully as Lizzy takes his hand and they walk through the crowded floor again, this time towards the bar.

"Well, I asked her to," Lizzy explains over her shoulder. "I want to at least say hi. It's been over a year since I've seen her. She's a very cool chick."

A few shots later and Ginger Snap makes her appearance next to Lizzy at the bar.

"You know, I was beginning to think you forgot about me!" the red-haired woman brightly says over Lizzy's shoulder.

"Hi!" Lizzy yells and wraps her arms around the now clothed… though just barely… stripper's neck. They hug hello with bright smiles and obvious excitement. "No way! I would never forget my favorite dancer."

"Damn straight you wouldn't!"

"Life has just been insanely busy," Lizzy explains truthfully. "Trust me, I've been dying to come back for so long now."

"So where's Louie?" Ginger asks, her disappointment clear as she doesn't see Lou with her.

"Couldn't make it this time," Lizzy quickly explains away without detail. "But I brought someone else with me. Emily, this is Dean."

"Well hello there, Dean," she draws out and extends her hand happily to the man Lizzy introduces her to with a hint of interest.

"Hello to you too," Dean says exaggeratedly, taking her hand shaking. "You put on a hell of a show out there."

"I do what I can," she giggles before turning back to Lizzy. "So, you and this gorgeous man of yours here want the usual?"

"Of course!" Lizzy grins excitedly. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"For the sparkling conversation," Ginger grins back.

"Among other things," Lizzy laughs.

"Well alright," Ginger Snap says while eying the two over, appreciating the couple's good looks. "This is definitely gonna be fun." She takes Lizzy's hand on one side and Dean's on the other before leading them back to the private rooms, earning them quite jealous stares from the crowd of men as they pass.

Dean's never felt prouder to be himself in his entire life and raises a fist high in the air above his head in triumph as a few of the guys at a nearby table clap and holler for him happily. Ah, Vegas.

* * *

 


	7. The Good Girl Stripper

* * *

Kicking the motel room door shut behind him, Sam sighs loudly with the little depression he's found himself in as he tosses the keys onto the small table in the room. The motel, though a bit dirtier than he'd hope for while on a retreat of this sort, is a calming place to be in the moment. It's quiet, still, and nothing like the Vegas strip he just left behind him. Sam's craving stillness and this is the only place he'll find it right now. He flops down on his back onto the bed farthest from the door and closes his eyes.

It's only going to get tougher, he thinks to himself. The solemn existence life has carved out for him is appearing more daunting by the day even though he's tried so hard to come to terms with. There are several things he's found a way to accept in his life. He's accepted that he was given a shitty start to life. He's accepted that he can't be normal, that his life won't allow it. He's also accepted that he'll most likely die early in his life, that he'll never know what it's like to sit behind a desk and earn a real paycheck, that he'll never get to hear someone call him dad or husband, and that he's lost so many people and he'll only lose more in the future.

The one thing he can't seem to accept is the loneliness itself. Sure, in the past he went to Dean for everything. Then he went to Jessica for a while and then Dean again. Out of nowhere, Lou popped into his life completely unexpectedly. She quickly became his rock of sorts. Dean was still his go to for everything, being by his side at every turn and always being fiercely protective and caring. But he judged. A lot. His brother judged every move he made.

Lou never did. Not once did she assume anything from him, good or bad. She just understood him. Every insane thing he ever told her, no matter how dark or heavy, she never looked at him any differently afterwards. He trusted her fully and for over a year of his life he felt a deep seated hope stemming from what she gave to him and, seeing as hope was not a normal feeling for the Winchesters, he reveled in it.

So considering Lou had been gone for one year now, Sam found it quite difficult to celebrate her life. He forced out a grin the whole night, pretending to be happier than he was, when on the inside it just plain hurt. He's sure Lizzy felt the same, but Dean was always there to preoccupy her mind. She still had him but Sam isn't all that sure how on his side Dean is these days. They were still walking on eggshells around each other. When Lizzy was around, which was a lot recently, they found a comfortable place in which they fake the strength of their relationship. Neither wanted to alarm Lizzy and they had made a silent pact to not let her know if possible how awkward it has sometimes gotten for them.

Now Dean and Lizzy are out at a strip club, probably being the obscene sex addicts that they are, and he was here, in the dark, somewhat smelly motel room about to peruse the porn channel. That's another aspect of his life that would be much improved if Lou was still around. His sex life.

Sighing heavily, Sam sits up and reaches to the bedside table for the remote, turning the old television on. He sees that Casa Erotica Eight is on the menu and he hasn't seen that one yet. Looks like he found a winner.

* * *

"Everyone comfy?" Ginger Snap asks the two as she stands in front of the couple. Dean is sitting back against the red upholstered couch with Lizzy seated right on his lap, her back reclined against his chest.

"Never been better," Lizzy smiles up to the woman standing over her while bringing an arm around Dean's head behind her, her hand dragging down the side of his neck.

"Good," she grins down to them, leaning forward and grasping the back of the couch to either side of their heads. She brings her face close to Lizzy's, lips just a breath apart without actually touching. "Because this right here, let's just say I don't get opportunities such as this very often. Usually my lap dances are for nasty, creepy guys. This is a real treat for me."

"Well, we're very happy to help you out then," Dean grins to her while trying his damnedest to mentally will Ginger Snap into press her lips to Lizzy's. No such luck as the dancer rises back up and moves forward, her legs pushing Lizzy and Dean's wider apart to stand between them.

"Now usually we can only break the no touching rule for girls, seeing as how they tend to know how to behave themselves better than their male counterparts," Ginger explains, taking Lizzy's hands and placing them on her hips. "But with couples, I've found a way around that." She then takes Dean's hands and places them on top of Lizzy's.

"Brilliant," Dean comments, eyes glued to the woman as Lizzy's hands allow them both to roam her body. Ginger Snap turns around, her backside to them now as she leans forward slowly, and guides Lizzy's hands to the curves of her bare cheeks as she does. Planting her hands on the floor, Ginger jiggles her hips side to side as Lizzy's giggles while taking in the feeling of her vibrating skin under her palms.

"Such a talented dancer," Lizzy compliments with a very light smack on Ginger's ass, sure to not be too rough or over step any boundaries.

"Why thank you, dear," Ginger responds while arching her back as she stands up. Dropping down into Lizzy's lap, she braces herself with a hand on each of Dean's knees. Soon enough, the expert mover grinds her ass into Lizzy in rhythm with 'Talk Dirty to Me'. Ginger Snap guides Lizzy and Dean's hands to her hips. "Help that man of yours out, honey. Move with me."

Following her lead, Lizzy moves her hips in unison with the dancer on top of her and Dean soon moans his sheer appreciating in her ear. Lizzy can feel underneath her just how much he's taking pleasure in her actions. Dean removes a hand from on top of Lizzy's and brings it to her cheek, turning her head and claiming her lips with is. Their tongues twist as hips gyrate. Ginger snap eventually stands and turns to face the couple, smile wide on her face to see them making out.

"Damn," she comments as she leans forward over Lizzy and slowly begins dragging her body down her customer's own. "Such a fucking turn-on." Dean and Lizzy pull their attention back to the dancer in front of them as she moves, her cleavage ghosting over Lizzy's face.

Ginger Snap climbs atop Lizzy with a knee on the couch to each side of her legs and Lizzy leans her weight back onto Dean. They watch intently as she unties the halter top around her neck and pulls the fabric down. As soon as she's topless, Ginger takes Lizzy and Dean's hands once more and cups them around her breasts before moving to the music again.

"So glad I came in here tonight,"Lizzy sighs up to the nearly naked woman in her lap.

"So am I," Ginger remarks back, pulling Lizzy up by the back of the head, pressing her into her breasts quickly and motor-boating Lizzy's face as Dean's eye light up. "You like that don't you, big boy?" she asks over Lizzy's head to Dean when she recognizes his childlike amusement.

"I  _love_  that," he smiles back as Ginger pushes Lizzy back against Dean by the shoulders and continues dancing in her lap with her hands roaming Lizzy's body.

After a while Ginger gets inspired. She gets up, pulling Lizzy onto her feet also. She turns Lizzy to face Dean and directs in her ear while staring straight at the still seated man, "Straddle him."

Lizzy grins devilishly as she steps forward and climbs onto Dean, never breaking eye contact and giving him a desire-filled look. Once in place, hips pressed together and as close as she can be to him, Ginger Snap also straddles Dean's legs and presses the front of her body flush against Lizzy's backside. She snakes a hand up and over Lizzy's shoulder, running down the front of her body and back up. Traveling the side of Lizzy's neck, Ginger turns her head to the side and gently brings their lips together.

Dean's brain stops working all together at the up close view he's getting of something he's fantasized about more times than he's been able to count. Lizzy, his beautiful Lizzy, is making out with another woman. A very  _hot_ , very  _naked_  woman, to be exact. If he's ever doubted that Lizzy would do anything for him before, he certainly doesn't now.

Never parting, Ginger reaches one hand around Lizzy's body to touch Dean, slipping a hand under his shirt and running her fingers along his chest and stomach. They both hear the dancer moan, clearly having as much fun as they are.

Ginger parts their lips softly and slowly turns Lizzy's head so that she's looking at Dean's hunger addled face.

"Now, kiss him," Ginger tells her, standing once more.

Lizzy wastes no time getting her mouth to Dean's, her hands grasping at either side of his face as she nearly devours him. Dean groans low, taking her tongue in his mouth and tangling his hands in her hair. They've been eager for each before, but nothing like this. This was beyond anything they've experienced. This was absolute fervid starvation for the other.

"Looks like I got you guys good and ready for one hell of a night," Ginger Snap comments as she sits sideways on the couch nonchalantly just off to the right of the lip locked couple and watches them go at it.

"Sure as hell did. And now our motel seems so far away," Lizzy laments as she turns to look at Ginger Snap. Dean's lips find her neck as she tries her best to talk to Ginger but her eyes are lidded with the feeling he provides her. It really wasn't much more than a couple miles, but in the state they were in it could have been a day's drive. "You're fucking amazing at your job."

"Thank you kindly," Ginger responds with a wide smile. "You know I may have a solution for this far away motel problem of yours."

"What?" Dean very quickly asks, popping his head up with her words, his hands now clutching onto Lizzy's ass and pulling her harder into him.

Ginger runs her hand down Dean's cheek and over his chest. "So fucking hot." She looks to Lizzy with a knowing look to let her know she's done well for herself. "Basically, as long as you're paying for lap dances, you get to be in this private area."

"Done," Dean says very quickly, pulling Lizzy in to kiss him again, easily ready to have sex with her right where they are with his overwhelming need.

"Ah, there is kind of a catch here," the stripper interrupts before their lips can meet and distract them completely. "In order to keep things kosher and on the down low, I would have to be in here too."

"You'd have to stay while we…" Lizzy wonders while motioning between Dean and herself.

"Yes," Ginger Snap confirms. "Now, I'm not a prostitute, let's get that straight here. I don't participate in any sex acts. You're paying for lap dances, not a threesome. I'm a good girl stripper. I bend the rules, but I never break them."

"Ok, so…" Dean questions with impatience, ready to get things going if he can. He's dying to pounce on Lizzy the second he's given the green light.

"So, you'd just have another set of eyes in the room, if that's something you're comfortable with," she explains. "And to be honest, just looking at the pair of you, I'm dying to see what you fucking looks like. That's  _got_ to be a show." Lizzy's eye bug out of her head with surprise before Ginger tries to explain herself. "You don't get into this line of work without being a little bit of a sex freak. I like to watch." She holds her hands out to her sides and shrugs.

Lizzy looks to Dean, his lips parted and slightly swollen with their aggressive make out session a few moments ago and he looks even more delicious than before. "What do you think?" she asks, slight hesitation in her voice. She's a bit nervous to be intimate like that with an onlooker in the room. Sure, she messed around with Louie and another guy a few times in the past, but she knew Lou very well. Ginger Snap was an acquaintance. And a stripper. It  _did_  sound fucking fun though, and it  _was_  Vegas. If she was ever going to go for something like this, now would be the time. Hmmm, what would Louie do?

"Please say you're cool with this," Dean pleads to her, eyes filled with hope as he looks for her approval. He was more than in, the idea of another woman watching them, getting off on them. That's not an opportunity that comes along every day.

Lizzy makes a snap decision and before she can let herself think twice, she quickly turns to Ginger and cups her face in her hands and pulls her into a long, drawn-out kiss.

"Oh my God," Dean sighs, his fingertips digging into Lizzy's ass as he watches patiently and with absolute carnality. This was going to happen. Holy shit, it was going to happen.

Lizzy pulls away from Ginger with a satisfied smile and raises an eyebrow. "Now it's your turn to get comfy, hmm?"

* * *

 


	8. You and Me and a Stripper Makes Three

God damn, Ginger thinks to herself as she looks on.  This may be the easiest money she’s ever made in her life and this is exactly why she loved when Lizzy and Lou would come out to visit her.  Those two always made her job that much more fun and a million times easier.  They bought her drinks, paid extremely well, and replaced her usual nasty and depraved customers with something different and not at all creepy.  And as much as she’s sad to not get the chance to hang with Lou this time around, she’s more than ok with the replacement Lizzy brought along.  This guy is hot, hotter than hot, and had a look to him that screams sex, and not just any kind of sex.  The good kind of sex.  The hair pulling kind of sex.  The all night, red assed, I-can’t-walk-the-next-day kind of sex.  Or at least Ginger Snap is really, _really_ hoping so.

Getting more comfortable, just as Lizzy had suggested she do, Ginger settles into the corner of the couch.  Leaning back into the junction of the furniture’s back and side arm, she props her stripper-heel- clad feet up on the cushiony seat just inches away from the couple practically devouring each other in front of her. 

If she were being honest, Ginger’s always had a little thing for Lizzy since the day they’d met about five years ago.  She and Lou came in with a group of rowdy men and Ginger found her captivating right off the bat.  Aside from the obvious hot, rock hard body and natural beauty, this chick was tough with grace.  She was a ballbuster and shockingly sure of herself, and the lap dance Ginger Snap was paid to give Lizzy for the entire group in the bachelor party she came with went from innocent fun to damn near sinful in no time flat.  Ginger couldn’t hold herself back even if she’d actually tried, which she certainly didn’t.  Let’s just say that tonight was not the first time she got to taste Lizzy’s lips. 

So imagine her excitement when Lizzy showed up on the lap of a gorgeous man at the end of her stage tonight.  She got a jolt of excitement to see the spark in her favorite customer’s eyes when she crawled over to her across the stage and when Lizzy whispered her request for some one-on-one time, she was already there. 

Now, Ginger is not a lesbian by any means.  She preferred men all the way.  But a beautiful woman, an actual beautiful woman who wasn’t made of plastic, which has become a rarity in Las Vegas, could always make her quite bi-curious.  Ginger’s never been able to stop herself from loving a spunky, strong, and sexy woman who is confident enough to jump head first into a strip club and have some serious fun without shame.  Right now, as Ginger Snap watches Lizzy and her unreal-hot man make out in front of her, her favorite customer is pushing all her buttons.

“Mm,” Ginger hums out while taking in the site of Lizzy, still straddling Dean’s lap and hands clutching the back of his head as her lips move fiercely against his beautiful ones.  Lizzy hears the voice and stops, turning her head to smile over at her favorite stripper before returning to meet Deans eyes. 

“I know you’ve thought about this for a while,” Lizzy tells him in a hungry voice as she pauses mid-sentence to run her tongue across his bottom lip.  “So I’m gonna let you take the reins on this one.”

“Seriously?” Dean asks, eyes wide and mouth in a full smile.  He _really_ wanted to take control, had been thinking about it since she agreed to make this happen, so when she makes the offer he can’t turn down he’s thrown off a little.  She must read minds.

“Oh yeah,” Lizzy happily consents, her hips grinding down onto him with want as she brings her mouth to his ear to whisper, “I want this to go exactly how you want it to… just don’t touch her.  I would have to kill her once we’re done.”  She needs to set this one ground rule.  Her jealousy would be too much and she knows it.

“You’re sure about this?” Dean checks one more time before diving in.  Once he gets going there will be no stopping him so he has to make sure she’s serious.  Watching her nod slowly with a look of starvation for him, Dean pulls her in sharply, lips burning against hers.

Ginger’s voice lets out an appreciative sigh at the scene before her and with it Dean is put into motion.  He grabs Lizzy’s wrists and pulls them away from his neck, swiftly bringing them to her sides in a way that lets her know to keep them there.  That was the fun thing about being so connected to Lizzy.  They read each other in times like these, knowing how to silently communicate. 

He then tangles his hands in Lizzy’s hair and pulls harshly, her head snapping back and making her moan a little with the sudden movement.  There’s something about this woman watching them that is making the more animalistic side of Dean come pouring out of him.  He’s fairly sure that normally Lizzy wouldn’t be so receptive of someone being in the room with them.  As much as he gets possessive of her, she constantly needs to make it clear the world knows that he belongs to her and only her.  Because of that, he has to make sure this one counts and that he puts on a hell of a show for the stripper making one of his dreams come true.  It’s the least he could do for her. 

Dean turns his head to look over at Ginger, their green eyes locking on each other, and she smiles back to him something immoral.

“You love this, don’t you?” he asks over to her, Lizzy’s hair still tightly coiled around his fingers, his other hand landing on the side of her exposed throat and trailing downward past her shoulder, over her breast, along her side and hip, and stopping once more on her ass to grip tightly to it. 

“Baby, you have no idea,” Ginger honestly tells him, bending her knees and spreading her legs wider while reclining back a little, giving him quite the view as she’s currently wearing only a small black thong.  Dean licks his lips while watching her, her body language clearly conveying just how much she is loving what she’s seeing.

“Yeah,” Dean comments, turning back to briefly study Lizzy’s neck and heaving chest as her breathing has quickened with his sudden rougher demeanor.  She loves when he gets like this, her complacency letting Dean know it for sure.  “Neither do you, sweetheart.”

He runs his tongue from the base of her neck upward, Lizzy’s voice making noises of sheer pleasure as he does.  Releasing her hair, Lizzy knows she can once more return her head upright, that Dean wants her to.  She looks back down at him, eyes filled with something desperate and yielding for him.  It’s the moment when he knows for sure she’s giving him full custody of the situation.  He’s in control.  It’s her gift to him as this is a moment he’s been asking for for some time now and really, she loves when her man takes charge.  He’s damn good at it and at his hottest in her eyes.

“Take your shirt off,” Dean tells her with a grin as he sits back, arms resting across the couch back as he watches her in his lap.  Lizzy happily complies, the tank top on the floor before he could think to ask twice.  “Keep going.”  Dean nods to her bra and she reaches behind her to unclasp her clothing.  Threading her arms through the straps, the bra joins her shirt on the floor. 

At this point, Ginger’s mind is blown.  The woman she knows to be tough as nails and not take shit from anyone is suddenly listening to this man like some submissive slave.  He must be good, damn good, to get Lizzy to follow his every command like this.  Lucky bitch. 

Dean brings his hands hard onto her still clothed ass, grabbing and pushing her up until she’s kneeling upright with her chest face level for him.  She goes to reach for him, touch him out of instinct, but once more her arms are forced to her sides. 

“Keep them there,” Dean tells her once they’re replaced.  “And look at her.”  He holds her chin and turns her head, making Lizzy look over at Ginger in the corner of the couch just a few feet away.  While staring down the dancer, Lizzy feels Dean’s mouth on her breast, his hands cupping one in each, as she moans a little at the sensation. 

Ginger keeps her arms out to either side, hands now grabbing the couch as she does what she can to not be too obscene, though she’s honestly so turned on already she’d give anything to touch herself right now, or dive across the couch.  The look burning in Lizzy’s struggling to stay open eyes is too good, too hot to handle for her.  She watches as Lizzy’s fingers curls against her own thighs, itching to be useful, but she never moves them.  Such will power.  Ginger knows her hands would be all over Dean by now.

“Oh God,” Lizzy sighs out as Dean lightly takes a nipple between his teeth, his own fire for her being fanned more and more.  Keeping his mouth’s attention where it is, Dean reaches lower to pop open the button on her pants.  As her zipper lowers, Lizzy smiles and jump with excitement.  He lifts her up and off of him by the hips until she’s standing between his legs.

“Tell her how you want to her to take her clothes off,” Dean offers to Ginger as he goes back to his reclined position.  His eyes dart back and forth between the women, both completely captivating his attention.  Ginger smiles and seems highly excited by the given opportunity. 

“My turn, huh?” Ginger smiles to Dean and he nods his confirmation.  Ginger looks to Lizzy.  “Turn around.”

Lizzy listens, smiling to Dean before she faces away from him. 

“Lower those pants… slowly,” Ginger directs.  Hooking a thumb into each side of the waist of her jeans, Lizzy pulls them down, dragging the fabric languidly over her ass until it rests just below her cheeks and reveals the blue thong she had on underneath.  “Stop.  Run your hands over the beautiful ass, honey.”

Looking over at Ginger with a surprised look, Lizzy knows now that she’s fully taking advantage of the situation.  They’ve swapped places.  As her fingers run over her own skin, she can’t help but grin a little.  She can suddenly see why someone would like this profession.  People looking at you with utter enjoyment and worship… and getting paid for it.  Not bad.

“Dean, help her out of those things, would you?” Ginger asks of him.

“With pleasure,” he responds, hands already on her thighs and running down the outside of her legs, pushing her pants lower as she does.  Once on the ground, Lizzy steps out of them after kicking off her FBI heels.  That was another rule for Vegas that Lou had; no boots, only heels.

“No way, Lizzy,” Ginger makes her pause.  “Shoes back on.”

“Oh, I like your style,” Dean grins over to the stripper, agreeing fully that Lizzy should still be wearing the black, shiny, and quite high heels.  God damn he loved her in those things. 

Once they were back on, Ginger keeps going.  “Legs apart,” she says.  Lizzy steps out a little wider, separating her feet.  “Now bend over and touch the floor.”

“Now you know why she’s my favorite,” Lizzy looks over her should to tell Dean and catches the look in his eyes.  The lust, the happiness, the edge he’s on, all worth the trip out here.  Bending herself nearly in half, Lizzy places flat palms on the floor as her round backside is fully displayed for her man. 

“Oh my God,” Dean groans quietly to himself, watching her lower herself.  He then looks to Ginger, accepting that maybe he’s lost control of the situation but as long as she keeps up the creative work, he couldn’t care.

“You just gonna sit there?” Ginger questions.  “You better mark that territory, Dean.  Get that handprint on there.”

Reaching out to smooth his hands over her ass, he gets a little worried.  They decided together a while ago that mixing pain and sex was a bit of a no-no for them.  Pain is their everyday life and sex is what makes it better.  They may have some rougher sex now and then, but full blown painful stuff they didn’t like to mess with. 

“It’s ok,” Lizzy says to him, looking up at him from between her legs with a smile.  “I’m ok.  I want you to do it.”

Dean’s heart skips.  He used to love marking up a girl nice and red now and then, the powerful feeling he got from it a hell of a rush.  Taking his time, roaming his palms all over her as he builds up to it, Dean eventually raises his hand at the ready.  Licking his lips, he brings his open palm down hard on her bare ass.

Lizzy jumps and lets out a little yelp, the sting on her skin immediately smoothed over by his calming touch.

“That ‘a boy,” Ginger hums her praise.  “That’s so fucking hot.”

As Dean runs his hand across the rapidly reddening handprint he left, a little guilt creeps in at the same time as the pride does.  Lizzy’s his, and now he can see the proof.  He likes that.  A lot.

Taking back his control out of sheer necessity once he hears the enjoyment coming from the corner of the couch, Dean quickly grabs her blue thong and shoves it down her legs.  Lizzy steps out as Dean takes her by her arms and pulls her back up until she’s standing.  He turns her back around to face him and yanks her in by her hips, getting the now very naked Lizzy back into his lap, a knee once again to either side of him. 

“Grab your heels and don’t let go,” Dean directs, his hands already around her wrists and bringing them to her shoes.  Kneeling on him, hands locked around her shiny heels causing her to arch her back a little, Dean takes a moment to revel in her.  He’ll never get tired of this body of hers, he’s certain of it.  Locking lips one more time, his hands search her body, eliciting another quiet moan from the corner.  Glancing over at Ginger, her hands latched tightly to the upholstery and hips moving slowly with her growing desire, Dean gets even more motivated.  “Look at her again.”

Lizzy turns and takes in the sight of Ginger for the first time in a while, having been wrapped up in Dean for some time.  She’s dying with desire and want, it’s clear to see… and Lizzy loves it.  She hasn’t gotten into anything like this in so long and although she swore off the whole adding another woman into the mix thing, she’s glad she broke her vow this one time.  This is damn fun and as she looks over at the overheating stripper, the night gets that much better.

“Mm, oh God,” Lizzy hisses as she feels Dean’s hand reach between her legs.  His talented hands know her so well, moving just how she liked them to and working their hardest to wind her up.  It never took long, unless Dean wanted it to, for him to really get her going. 

Biting her lip, Ginger keeps her crazy at bay.  Holy shit, this guy already has Lizzy crying out his name and uttering nonsense… with just his hand so far!  What she wouldn’t give to let herself go.  Her hand itches with the need to be used and she tingles with arousal.  Sure, she’s let couples do their thing before for some extra cash, but God damn, this is amazing.  Dear Penthouse…

Lizzy’s eyes still on Ginger, watching her struggle to remain the good girl stripper she wants so badly to be, that curious streak of hers grips her tight.  Through the haze of Dean’s hand making her feel just so damn good, Lizzy locks eyes between moans and nods to Ginger, giving her the permission she needs to allow herself to give in.  With a thankful smile, Ginger does just that.

Lizzy closes her eyes when she feels Dean’s fingers find their way inside of her, curling wonderfully and expertly in order to hit _that_ spot and make her shudder.  She arches her back a little more while dropping her head back, completely overcome by what he’s doing to her but she never loses her grip on her heels.  He told her not to and she listens.  When Lizzy finally pries her eyes open, looking back to Ginger as she does, Lizzy moans loudly at what she sees.  Ginger is still sitting in the corner of the couch, legs wide and staring at her and Dean, but now one of her hands is no longer in a death grip on the couch arm.  It’s between her legs, working furiously under the fabric of her thong.

Lizzy lets out a surprised laugh through her moans, making Dean look up and follow her eye line.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean says loudly when he looks over to see the stripper pleasuring herself to them.  He’s seen a lot, but not much can compare to that.  It’s too much.  Way too much. 

Without warning Dean stands up, taking Lizzy with him.  They stand facing each other, Dean quickly capturing her lips as his hands return to her hair, tongue forcefully moving against hers.  After not long, he pulls her away from him by her hair, letting go to direct her.  “Take my clothes off.”

The smile on Lizzy’s lips at Dean’s request makes Ginger hum with excitement.  She’s been dying to see him, all of him, and so she watches intently as Lizzy lift his t-shirt over his head.  Tossing the shirt aside, Lizzy’s hands slowly dragging down his bare torso as Ginger bites her lip hard at the sight of him.  God damn.  This man is perfection.  Lizzy looks up at Dean while opening his pants with sheer adoration and absolute worship in her eyes and the stripper is beginning to think this guy wasn’t just some random dude  Lizzy met today, or any kind of casual acquaintance.  She knows him through and through and she loves him.  It’s clear.  These two are insane for each other, and Ginger gets a hell of a show because of it.

Lowering to her knees, Lizzy never breaks eye contact with Dean while she pulls down his pants and boxer briefs, springing him free of the cloth prison he feels he’s been trapped in for way too long.  He watches as Ginger’s eyes grow wide with a hungry smile when she first get to see him. 

“Not too shabby, right?” Dean cockily remarks to the woman on the couch, his prideful smile falling away to a concentrated one as a moan slips from his lips.  Lizzy couldn’t help herself.  She doesn’t wait for permission to run her tongue along the underside of him, knowing the reaction she’d get would be excellent.  Once she runs her tongue up his entire length, she stays on the floor, kneeling at his feet, and looking up with expectant eyes.  She’s waiting to be told what to do next.

“On the couch,” Dean tells her and she slowly stands, kissing and licking her way up his body in absolute idolization.  She loved his body, among other things about him, and she truly did worship the man for everything he is.  In moments like this she just wanted to make him happy as if it’s the only thing that mattered in life.  Once she reaches his lips and leaves a searing kiss on them, she walks over to the couch only to have Dean following close behind.  He positions her on all fours facing Ginger, the stripper smiling over at her with appreciation. 

“Crawl to her,” Dean commands with an evil smile.  Lizzy makes her way down the couch, staring hard into the stripper at the other end, her green eyes burning right back into Lizzy’s.  Suddenly Lizzy can’t wait to reach her, her hands and knees not moving fast enough.  She climbs right onto Ginger, her knees between the other woman’s spread legs and elbows propped on either side of Ginger’s head.  Lizzy leans in, licking Ginger’s pouty lips once before diving in and consuming her mouth as they both hear Dean’s groan of appreciation from the other end of the couch.  Before long, the two women are so wrapped up in each other, lips moving and Ginger’s free hand exploring Lizzy’s body, that Dean begins to feel like he’s been forgotten as he watches in complete awe.  He stood back for a moment, enjoying Lizzy’s boldness as she hovers over Ginger, her bare ass complete with his handprint still on it making sultry moves as she makes out with the nearly naked woman, but damn it, as great a view as it is he can’t stay back any longer.

Without warning, Lizzy gasps loudly into Ginger’s mouth when she’s taken by complete surprise.  Dean’s hand returns between her legs, giving her one last touch in warning before easing himself into her. 

“Oh yes,” Lizzy separates her lips from Ginger’s to cry out.  “Oh God.  Dean.”

With one foot on the floor and a knee planted on the couch behind her, Dean grabs Lizzy’s hip in one hand and her shoulder in the other, giving him the best leverage possible.  Moving in and out of her quickly, Lizzy’s voice fills the room as she moans out in total pleasure. 

Watching Lizzy’s face closely as it twists happily with her enjoyment, Ginger works her hand on herself faster in rhythm with Dean’s thrusts.  After tonight, she’s pretty sure her job is going to flat out suck.  What could compare to this?  Not being able to stop herself, she leans up and brings her mouth to Lizzy’s neck, sucking, licking, biting, and loving the high pitched squeal she gets from Lizzy as she does.

“So sexy,” Ginger whispers into Lizzy’s ear as her tongue runs around it.  “So glad you came to see me tonight.”

“Mm, me too,” Lizzy pants out and brings her lips to Ginger’s again, unable to resister her.  Damn, this stripper is hot and she’s always been too much fun to make out with.  Ginger opens her eyes in disappointment when Lizzy’s mouth is gone but quickly the disappointment disappears when she registers what’s happening in front of her.

Dean has Lizzy upright on her knees, the back of her shoulders pressed against his chest and a hand loosely around her neck holding her there.  One of Lizzy’s hand’s finds Ginger’s knee and grips it tight, her other hand reaching back to grab onto Dean’s hip as it pushes hard into her over and over from behind. 

Looking down to Ginger, Dean smirks.  “Watch this,” he says with confidence as he once again brings a hand between Lizzy’s legs, pressing hard circles into her and eliciting obscene sounds from her.  Lizzy’s head falls back onto his shoulder as the building pleasure starts to grow at an intense rate.  Dean knows exactly what he’s doing to her, having found that this position mixed with his hand was a surefire way to make her crazy.  Works every damn time.

Ginger watches, jaw dropped and face concentrated on the two putting on the show of a lifetime.  She watches as Dean’s mouth drops onto Lizzy’s shoulder, his teeth sinking in just a little, and Ginger once more bites her lip.  Lizzy moans louder and Ginger’s hand moves faster.  Watching this after kissing and touching Lizzy, God, she’s going crazy with want and she feels her own release building along with Lizzy’s.

“I want to hear it, L,” Dean says to Lizzy, knowing she’s as good as done in just a few more seconds.  “I want you to tell Ginger who you belong to.”

“Oh my God,” Ginger whispers in sheer amazement.

“Oh fuck,” Lizzy cries out, his words, his hand, his everything making her insane.

“Who owns you, L?” Dean bids from her.

“Holy hell,” Ginger whispers once more, looking up at Dean’s dark eyes.

“Look at her,” Dean demands of Lizzy, and she does as he asks.  “Tell her who you belong to.”

“I belong to Dean!” Lizzy practically shouts while looking that the stripper.  “Dean, oh God!”

Lizzy moans loudly one last time as the wave she rides crashes hard, her nails digging into both Dean’s hip and Ginger’s knee as her body shakes with the intense feeling, every muscle tensing.  Dean sits back on his heels, wrapping his arms around Lizzy’s middle and taking her with him so that she’s sitting on his thighs with him still deep within her.  Lizzy breathes hard, fingers wrapping around his forearms and leaning back into him as her body goes slack.  She needs a moment to recover and Dean knows it.  He trails kisses across her shoulder and up her neck, stopping at her ear quickly.

“God, I love you,” he whispers, making her smile genuinely.  Once more, no matter what kind of sex they get into, he at some point surprises her with something sweet like that. 

Taking a moment to check on the now very quiet stripper in front of them, Dean grins like a kid on Christmas morning when he sees her.  Her hand is still, her face relaxed, her breathing calm.

“What?” Ginger quietly asks Dean when she sees the expression on his face as he peers at her. 

“Did you…?” he narrows his eyes at her.  “You just got off on us, didn’t you?”

Lizzy snaps her head to Ginger, huge smile on her face.  The second she sees her, she knows it’s true.  Ginger’s lax body language alone told the truth.  “You _so_ did!”

“Hey, I told you I liked to watch, didn’t I?” she rebuts.

Lizzy’s mood grows darker than before, getting turned on all over again by the idea of Ginger touching herself and coming at the same time as her.

“Lucky for you we aren’t done yet,” Lizzy responds, rising and falling once onto Dean to remind him of just that.  His eyes close briefly and the simple movement snaps him into action.  He moves Lizzy off his lap and turns her around, pushing her back so that she’s sitting between Ginger’s legs with her back leaning against Ginger’s front.  The dancer wraps her arms around Lizzy’s shoulders and Dean moves to kneel between Lizzy’s legs.  Wasting no time as his desire is still raging, especially now that he’s looking down at the two women with full view of everything, Dean pushes back into Lizzy with a loud grunt.

“So sexy, honey,” Ginger comments, running a hand down the side of Dean’s face as he’s reveling in the warmth that is being inside Lizzy once more.  Dean takes the stripper’s hand and places it tentatively on one of Lizzy’s breasts.  When his girl makes no attempt to stop it, Dean sighs with thankful praise before he begins working in and out of Lizzy once more.  Ginger’s hands get busy also, taking a breast in each hand.

“Oh!” Lizzy jumps with surprise, her hands slapping down onto Ginger’s thighs to each side of her when the dancer pinches her nipples between her fingers.  “God damn.”  She smiles up at Dean, her hot, beautiful, sexy Dean working his hardest above her.  He looks down right perfect in the moment to her, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin with desire darkening his eyes. 

Lifting one of her legs, Dean turns his eyes to Ginger’s.  “Hold this for me,” he asks of her, Ginger winking back before hooking and arm around Lizzy’s leg and pulling it into her own shoulder.  Beautiful and flexible, Ginger thinks.  Excellent.

“Shit,” Lizzy moans out as Dean goes deeper into her, filling her completely.

He’s gotten her right back on track towards another satisfying end but now he worries.  The two gorgeous and desire filled faces looking up at him, Ginger touching his Lizzy like that, he knows he doesn’t have much time left.  Hell, he’s shocked that he’s been able to last this long.

Removing Ginger’s hand from Lizzy’s breast, he moves it lower, letting her take over the job of assisting Lizzy in coming again.  Ginger’s eye light up brightly, more than happy to be touching Lizzy in such an intimate way, and set to work, leaving the woman panting and moaning in no time at all. 

“Oh God, oh God, oh God,” Lizzy chants, her brain unable to process much more than the simple phrase.  She turns her head and looks up at Ginger, a hand on the side of the stripper’s face and pulling it down to her.  They kiss, Lizzy humming loudly against Ginger’s mouth as Dean watches. 

“Baseball,” Dean whispers quietly to himself, eyes glued to the women making out.  “WWE, old people doing it….”  He just needs a minute more.  He knows the sounds Lizzy’s making so, so well.  One more minute, that’s it.  Come on, Dean, think unsexy thoughts.

“Mmm,” Lizzy moans in a high pitch into Ginger’s mouth before turning away from her to look at Dean.  “Oh baby, fuck me harder.  So close.”

Wide eyes, Dean does as she asks, pushing hard into her with each thrust, making her lids lower.

“Fuck, Dean,” Lizzy calls up to him, her hands reaching up the grasp either side of his face hard.  “Oh my God, yes!”  She shouts her second release loudly when it finally hits her and Dean stops trying to hold out any longer. 

“Holy fuck!” Dean grits out, letting go.  God damn, it felt good after not allowing himself that release for so long.  He was ready to go from the jump, but this, well this is more than well worth the wait. 

“Oh, my, God,” Lizzy smiles widely up at Dean after coming down.  “Amazing.”

He leans forward and kisses her, knowing he owes her the world for this one.  She might just be the coolest fucking chick alive to allow him this experience. 

“I owe you,” he kisses her again, ‘Big time.”

“Eh, not really,” she returns.  “I had plenty of fun too.”

“Me too,” Ginger comments from behind Lizzy.  “That was fucking nuts!”

“I agree,” Lizzy says sitting up on her own accord once Dean separates them and turns to face Ginger.  “Thanks, by the way.”

“Thanks!?” Ginger asks with disbelief.  “You’re paying me to watch _that_!  I win here so don’t thank me.”  She gets up and walks around the room gathering her clothes.  “Just make sure that the next time you’re in Vegas, you come in for a repeat.”

“Done,” Dean smiles, sitting back on the couch and relaxing.  He’s spent and tired, but damn it felt good. 

“I’m holding you to that!  I’ll give you guys a minute, but be out soon,” Ginger warns.  “Don’t want my boss figuring anything out.”  She winks and disappears, leaving Dean and Lizzy to get dressed.

Lizzy gets up and starts to collect their clothing when Dean stops her, pulling her arm to get her to stand in front of him.  She looks down expectantly, not sure why he’s stopping her. 

“You’re amazing,” he tells her with all honesty.

“You ain’t so bad yourself,” she smiles back, but Dean’s face stays serious.

“I’m not joking,” he tells her.  “Most chicks would never do something like that for their man.  You’re more than I deserve.”  He kisses the palm of her hand that was in his hold.

“Um, I don’t think you should be so damn thankful,” Lizzy rebuts.  “I had fun, a lot of fun.  That was mostly for you, but trust me, I got mine in there somewhere too.”

“Can’t you just take the compliment?” he grins up to her.  “You’re awesome, more than awesome, and you should know that.”

“You tell me all the time, how could I ever forget?” she smiles and squeezes his hand once before letting go.  “Now get dressed.  Don’t wanna get Ginger in trouble.”  She tosses his boxer briefs in his direction and they land on his face.  She laughs quickly while putting her clothes back on.  “And, I think you need to buy me a drink.”

“I’d love to,” Dean says, standing up and dropping a kiss on her forehead before collecting his own attire.

* * *

 


	9. Newsflash, Sam!  You're Hot!

* * *

The second the motel door opens, he's wide awake. Sam's always been a light sleeper. He had to be. A heavy sleeping hunter is a dead hunter.

Wrapping his fingers silently around the handle of his trustee Taurus he hides under his pillow every night, his finger at the ready to take the safety off if needed, he stills himself and listens for clues as to what is invading his space. Clearly it's something that has a death wish.

"Son of a bitch!" he hears a very familiar voice whisper out as the person it comes from runs right into the corner of the table in the room. Sam relaxes, letting go of his weapon and sighing quietly. What the fuck is Dean up to? Instead of let him know that he woke up his brother, Sam just stays in place. He's too tired to deal with a shitfaced Dean and Lizzy right now. When he thinks of vacation, he thinks of actual sleep so he'd like to get back to it.

"Ah ha!"

Sam catches the jubilant celebration at the same time as the Impala's keys make a metallic jingle. Immediately after, he can hear Dean bolt for the door again as quietly as possible… or at least what his clearly drunken mind thinks is as quietly as possible. Sam finds a legitimate worry once Dean slams the door shut. The last thing Dean should be doing after spending the wee hours of the morning drinking in Vegas is driving around.

Getting reluctantly out of bed, Sam walks heavily to the front window and pulls aside the curtains. The car is parked directly in front of their room and Dean has Lizzy pinned up against the side of it while quite sloppily making out. He unlocks the back door and opens it, gesturing for Lizzy to get in. She kisses him one more time before dropping into the backseat with a smile, Dean following right after.

Sam understands what's happening clearly now and he thanks God for their clear minded thinking even when totally hammered. While flopping back onto his bed, he thinks it's about time they learned. When drunk, Lizzy and Dean sometimes forget where they are and who they are around. They've started things up while they assumed Sam was asleep a few times already and Sam's had to be the pain in the ass that stops them. That wasn't something he ever looked forward to doing.

With a little smile on his face, Sam drifts back off. Sure it hurt that he was alone a lot now, but seeing Dean acting like a love stricken teenager like that, his brother finding some kind of happiness in their fucked up lives… well, sometimes that did a hell of a job making up for his own loss.

* * *

"So either of you out of that hangover enough to let me know how the rest of the night went?" Sam questions while handing over a beer to Dean and then one to Lizzy before dropping down into his lounge chair. Lizzy somehow got them into the Hard Rock pool midday (did she seriously know everyone in this town?) and now they lay out under the Nevada sun, drinking away their next day sickness and generally enjoying life for once. Sam sits to Lizzy's left and Dean is on her right.

"No," Lizzy heavily responds with a slight smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "But I can promise it was awesome." What a hell of a night indeed. She blindly holds her bottle of beer out to the side and waits for Dean to cheers her. Feeling his drink come in contact with her own with a satisfying clink, she pulls it back and takes a long pull from it. Yeah, great night.

"That's all I get?" Sam questions, looking curiously over at two knowing they're being tight lipped for some reason. Maybe he doesn't want to know, honestly.

"Sure is, flower man," Dean responds, trashing on Sam's swim ware. The Impala didn't really have the space to hold special occasion clothing so bathing suits weren't something the Winchesters owned. Lizzy ran out around noon, which was when the three actually were awake enough to function, and bought herself a bikini along with two pairs of board shorts, one solid navy blue the other white with large and very loud red flowers, along with a two piece of her own. Dean was smart getting to the shopping bag first, though Lizzy had hoped Sam would beat him to the punch. She was aiming for Dean to get the ridiculous suit, but oh well. "You should have stayed out with us instead of being a party pooper. You'd already know what happened if you did."

"Wasn't in the mood for strippers last night," Sam admits, noticing Lizzy lift her aviator shades enough to peer at him with narrowed eyes.

"Just in the mood for motel porn instead?" Dean challenges with a smile. Sam shoots him a surprised look before Dean explains how he knew. "TV was still on the order screen when I turned it on this morning. You go with 'Casa Erotica' or 'Big Butts That Cannot Lie'?"

Sam sighs loudly while sitting back. "You suck."

"Hey, they're both good ones," Dean admits. "Just curious which you went with. I would have picked Casa Erotica. Always a safe bet."

"You ok?" Lizzy asks Sam quietly, turning to block Dean from the conversation if possible. She's sensing that he's off a bit.

"Yeah," Sam partially lies. "Just… tough day, you know?"

"I know," Lizzy agrees, grabbing his hand quickly in her own. "I definitely know. Just remember that Louie was almost always annoyed with Dean. You're just honoring her memory more by being pissed at him." She grins and squeezes Sam's hand, trying her hardest to find humor in the difficult one year anniversary. Sam huffs a small laugh and finds some solace in her words.

"So this is kinda unfair," Sam says to both Lizzy and Dean, changing the subject to something easier. "You know how I embarrassingly ended my night, but you won't tell me anything about yours."

"It was a little crazy," Lizzy confesses while taking her hand back. "And very…"

"Strippery," Dean finishes for her and Lizzy laughs.

"I figured," Sam says.

"It was just a typical night at a strip club," Lizzy lies completely.

"Ok…" Sam starts. "But what I want to know is why at three in the morning was I woken up to someone stumbling around the room like a drunken idiot looking for car keys and yelling 'son of a bitch' when walking into the table before leaving again."

Lizzy leans forward with her laughter at Sam's best impression of Dean saying his favorite phrase. He nailed it and she can practically picture it in her head. Lizzy and Dean had a several more drinks with Ginger Snap after their backroom fun so sloppy wasn't even a good enough word for what they were by the end of the night. "Holy shit, we were so bombed at that point!"

"And we had some unfinished business to attend to," Dean tells his brother. "Figured you didn't want that in the room with you, so we used the car. See Sammy, we're learning!" Once they got back from the strip club, they were both riding a serious sex-high from the experience. Another round was held in the Impala's backseat before they finally went back into their shared room to pass out, the day's clothes still on.

"You guys are fucking classy," Sam smiles.

"Got class coming out my ass, my friend," Lizzy quips while sipping on her beer. If only Sam knew what they'd done before they even left the strip club…

"Indeed," Dean comments with a grin, reveling in the memories of the night before. He prays he never forgets a single second of that encounter.

"Ah, fuck this hangover. I need to do a shot I think," Lizzy announces as she rubs at her temples. "Time for some good old fashioned hair of the dog."

"I'm in," Dean says to her. As if right on cue, a woman scantily clad and with enormous fake boobs appears in front of them.

"Hi ya'll. Can I get you anything else today?"

"God, I fucking love Las Vegas," Dean says under her breath.

"Yes, please!" Lizzy resoundingly answers. "Shot of Jack… no, two shots."

"Me too," Dean says without moving a muscle. He's hurting pretty bad after last night himself.

"And you hot stuff?" the server looks to Sam, putting forth her best smile and batting her eyelashes.

"No thanks," Sam says.

"Bullshit, Sam-I-Am," Lizzy immediately calls out, pointing a finger in his face. "This is What Would Louie Do day. She'd do shots. They were her hangover cure of choice."

"Lizzy, it's only two in the afternoon," Sam begins to plead but gets cut off.

"Six shots of Jack please," Lizzy orders for the group, not giving Sam an option.

"Sure thing," the waitress answers without looking at her. She licks her lips with a smirk while never breaking her stare at Sam before leaving to get their drinks.

"That wasn't creepy at all," Sam comments sarcastically with the waitress' leering.

"Dude, get used to it already," Lizzy says to him, craning her neck upward to feel the sun on her face.

"What do you mean?" Sam questions.

"You're so fucking oblivious it's borderline annoying," Lizzy says to him exasperatedly.

"This is exactly why he never gets laid," Dean sing-song adds to the conversation from the peanut gallery.

"Do you even own a mirror? Or ever look into one? Sam, every fucking chick out here just stared you down like a piece of meat while you went to get our beers." Lizzy cups her hands around her mouth to shout to Sam, "News flash! You're hot!"

"And you're ridiculous," Sam returns while swatting her hands away from her face, hoping she won't shout in his ear again.

"The girls in Vegas came here to have fun and you  _are_  fun," Lizzy explains. "They're all wasted and you're like walking sex to them so grab your balls and go take your pick, kiddo."

"Don't call me kiddo," Sam responds, hating when she did that. He  _was_  older after all.

"There's some pretty hot talent out there, Sammy. I checked," Dean tells his brother. "You should try and get laid while we're here. It'll do you some good."

"WWLD," Lizzy smirks, restating her new theme for the day.

"Thanks for the pep talk, jerks," Sam caustically returns. "But I'm good. I just want to lay here for now, have a few beers, and relax."

"Fine," Lizzy concedes, holding a hand out to stop Dean from explain just how he should go about relaxing. She could read his mind way too easily. "Just makes sure you're not being such a little bitch later tonight when we meet up with Emily."

"Who's Emily?" Sam wonders aloud and is unsettled when Lizzy and Dean share a knowing look complete with sly smiles.

"She's a smoking hot chick that's friends with Lizzy," Dean explains, leaving out the stripper part of the description. Using her real name also make her more approachable to Sam. Telling him her name is Ginger Snap would have Sam running in the other direction. "You give her a chance and I guarantee you'll love her. At least for the night."

"And I may have told her that I had a smart, super sweet, and sexy young man for her to meet," Lizzy tacks on. "And I do mean just meet. If you're not feeling her, then it's totally cool if nothing comes of it."

"Though he'd be fucking insane to turn that down…" Dean quietly says to Lizzy, earning him a swat on the arm and a look that tells him to shut up. There was no need for Sam to be aware of what she may have been a part of the night before.

"Gee, no pressure," Sam quips with an eye roll.

"Exactly," Lizzy tells him. "So relax, Sam-I-Am. It's all about fun for the rest of today. Enjoy it because it's all disappearing tomorrow."

* * *

 


	10. What Did We Do!?

* * *

The bed creaks and dips from the other side as the man next to her begins stirring, pulling her mind out of the deep sleep she'd been in. The mattress rises once the weight that had been on it is taken off and she listens while facing away from him to his feet dropping onto the carpeted floor and making their way across the room. After hearing the bathroom door click into place, she inhales deeply and groans as she exhales, the headache making its presence well known as her brain tries to jumpstart. Good Lord, her skull is absolutely splitting open.

"Ow," she whispers to no one in particular as she rolls onto her back and presses the heels of her palms into her eye sockets. That must have been one hell of a night, she thinks to herself as she lays back. On top of the headache, her stomach is queasy and for the life of her she can't remember much past the first few drinks she had. A scene of some bar comes through the clouds along with the thought that she should have met Emily out, but doesn't remember seeing her. Something about walking sloppily down the strip while quite drunk also breaks though, but other than the few, flashing bits and pieces, she comes up empty handed. God damn, they must have been completely shit-faced.

Sitting up, she looks around the room and is very surprised. This wasn't the same room the three of them checked into when they arrived in Las Vegas yesterday afternoon. Their initial place was much shittier than this one; it was dirtier and smelled like smoke in every room. Taking in the details around her now, she recognizes that this new room has its own unique quirks and is totally ridiculous in every aspect. Everything is in shades of red, white and pink. The weathered wallpaper had tiny red hearts printed all over it and the bed was in the shape of a circle. She'd bet any amount of money that if she flicked the nearest switch on the wall that the mattress would rotate like a skanky carousel. Spying the red, heart-shaped hot tub in the corner that looked like it was straight out of the movie Dumb and Dumber, she scrunches her face in disgust. She definitely let him pick this place while hammered last night. Laughing at the thought briefly, she groans again when the exertion it makes her headache flare up.

Clearly they kept the party going once they got back here, she thinks. There are two empty bottles of champagne sitting by the still filled and now cold hot tub and there are clothes scattered all over the place. She knows they had a hell of a time once she spies her bra hanging from the lamp on the nightstand.

The sun is coming in through the small space where the heavy motel curtains don't quite meet but she has not a clue as to what time it is. Reaching to the bedside table with her left arm to check her phone, she freezes halfway. There is a brand new piece of jewelry on her ring finger. Her heart skips a beat at the sight. How did that get there?  _Why_  is it there?

As the shock sets in she pulls her hand close to her face, studying the tacky gold band with laughable hearts etched into it. What did they do last night! Did they seriously get married! Holy shit! Did they just spur of the moment while completely shit-faced commit themselves to each other! For life!

Breathing deeply to calm herself after the initial shock hits, her heart rate begins to slow as she starts to think rationally about the whole situation. They knew this was where they were eventually headed, they'd even talked about it a few times before, so maybe it wasn't really so bad. Thinking clearly, she finds herself smiling. Wow, they did it. They actually took the plunge. It's a shame she doesn't remember it, but in the moment she doesn't care that much. She's filled with her all-consuming love for him and revels in the moment. Mrs. Winchester. Definitely sounds good and if she was being honest, she's wanted this for a while now.

Hearing the toilet flush from the other side of the closed bathroom door, she's excited for him to get back in the room and join her. She wants to celebrate this occasion and remember it this time. The door begins to open and her heart skips a beat.

"Mornin' hubby," she grins but quickly her smile drops into a pale, panicked expression. "Uh…" She sees him standing stock still in his boxer briefs in the doorway and finds that she can't breathe with the surprise the sight of him makes.

"Whoa!" the boxer brief-clad man says when he recognizes from the bathroom doorway that the woman he woke up next to a few moments ago is. She had been facing away from him when he awoke so he had assumed it was some stranger he'd met last night. Now he's taken over by sheer fright at the woman that is sitting up in the bed he just came from.

"What the fuck is going on!" she shouts, eyes wide and clearly scared.

"Shit! I don't know!" he yells back, a hand immediately washing down his face. "I really don't know!"

"Oh my God!" she bellows before thinking to ask him an important question. Breathing deeply, eyes closed, she cautiously lets her curiosity fly. "Tell me there  _isn't_  a ring on your finger."

He raises his hand to eye level and looks, seeing a bright gold, brand new band. "Oh fuck." He turns his hand to show her.

"Oh no," she groans and drops her head forward, her face in her hands. "What the fuck did we do!" Her voice is muffled but her fear and anxiety is as clear as day.

"Not sure…" he trails off, slowly walking to the bed and sitting on the very edge of it, careful not to get too close to her in their uncomfortable situation. "Well, I have a good idea."

"Why!" she shouts loudly while looking up at him, desperate for an answer. He just shrugs, unsure of what to even say.

She sits up tall for a second, ready to deal with another detail she's yet to really focus on. Pulling the covers away from herself and looking down, her eyes grow even wider than before. She snaps the covers back into her tightly with a scream. "I'm naked!" she shouts to him, face twisted in panic with the discovery. "Oh my God, I'm naked!"

"Not surprised. So was I when I woke up," he sadly responds quieter than before, having not wanted to tell her.

"We couldn't have. We wouldn't, right?" she tries to rationalize.

"I… um…"

"Please, please,  _please_  tell me we didn't," she begs of him while cutting him off, needing to hear that she hadn't slept with him and that she isn't the worst person in existence.

"I… can't," he says with a pained expression. "I don't remember a damn thing."

"Me neither," she softly laments, defeated by the situation. They sit quietly for a moment, running through the position they find themselves in in their own minds several times over and coming up with no explanation as to how all this happened.

"Shit, Sam. What are we gonna do?" she asks desperately.

"I don't know," Sam responds with a hand running through his hair. "Fuck. Lizzy, we are so screwed."

* * *

"Shit! Why isn't he answering?" Lizzy worriedly asks from her spot still sitting under the covers of the bed with her cell phone to her ear. Dean's voicemail recording starts and she sighs loudly.

"Wish I knew," Sam responds, getting one of his weird and awful feelings that something is very wrong. Dean always picks up when Lizzy calls him and with the way this day has started, her getting his voicemail is a terrible sign.

"Hey, Hot Shot. It's me. Uh… I just kinda woke up in a random motel room and I have no clue as to what happened last night," she says into the phone, glancing at Sam with distress in her eyes. "Please, please call me back as soon as you get this. Some fucked up shit happened and I'm really worried about you. I have no idea where you are and… I miss you. Don't worry about Sam. He's with me. Um… I love you, Dean. I really do. Call me." She presses end and sighs loudly, dropping the phone onto the comforter and cradling her pounding head in her hands.

"Can you hand me my bag?" she asks of Sam without looking up. Sam stands, still only wearing his underwear, and retrieves the canvas duffel off of the floor. He hands it over before walking to his own bag to grab a t-shirt and jeans as he's beginning to feel way too underdressed in front of his brother's girlfriend… or his own wife. Fuck.

"God damn it, my fucking head hurts so bad I can barely think," Lizzy says, searching her own bag for the Advil she knows she packed for the trip

"I don't even want to know how much we must've drunk last night," Sam adds, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You're head killing you too?" Lizzy asks, noticing his body language for the first time as he pulls his pants on. Sam looks like he's in about as good a shape as she is. She finds the pill bottle and quickly pops the top.

"Like I'm being stabbed behind the eyes," he quickly responds, pulling his t-shirt over his head. She holds out the small opened container and Sam sits on the edge of the bed again with an extended palm. After dumping three pills in his hand, she shakes out three more for herself.

"Hey, could you get me some water?" she asks of Sam. "Not trying to be a prude or anything, but I'm still very naked under here."

"Apparently I've already seen everything so it doesn't really matter," Sam returns, earning a grimace from Lizzy.

"Please, Sam," she complains with her eyes screwed shut. "Don't say things like that."

"Yeah," Sam sighs out as he stands and pads back into the bathroom. As she hears the faucet water turn on, Lizzy snaps the bottle top back in place and drops it into her bag. Through the unzipped opening in the duffel, Lizzy spies some new, never seen before items inside and she begins pulling them out. She studies the first paper she finds and reads it over carefully.

"Well, its fucking official," Lizzy complains when she sees Sam return with champagne flutes filled with water. Such a classy joint they found here. After taking one glass out of his hand, she replaces it with the paper she found. Pulling it in so he can read it, Sam recognizes what the simple legal document says.

"We're married," he says devoid of emotion. He just can't seem to process the idea at all. "You, Lizzy, my brother's girlfriend, and I are married."

"This whole thing stinks," she says plainly, popping the pills into her mouth and downing them with a hefty gulp of water.

"No shit," Sam responds. "Dean might actually fucking kill me this time."

"No, not what I mean," she further explains. "I mean, yeah, it stinks and he will definitely try to kill you but this just doesn't make sense. We'd never do this. Ever. And now we don't even know where Dean is. Something's up, man."

"Or we're stupid," Sam suggests.

"No way are we this dumb," Lizzy brushes off while looking over more of the items she found.

"I mean, we did, kinda, kiss before…" Sam challenges. "Twice. And while one of us was drunk both times."

"So what?" Lizzy asks, getting annoyed with Sam's implications.

"Just saying, maybe we got crazy blackout drunk and took that way too far?" He looks over at her with curiosity over what her reaction will be.

"I would  _never_ do that," Lizzy says sternly, dropping her hands in her lap with frustration. "Sam-I-Am, I love you, but not anything like that."

"I know," Sam admits. He believed her completely. "I'm just trying to figure this crap out."

"Well, shitty job there, dude," Lizzy frustratingly rebuts, knowing she's being rude and unpleasant. "Found a few receipts too."

"For where?" Sam quickly asks, impatient to find out where they'd been.

"One from the first bar we went to," Lizzy begins to list. "One from a liquor store for a couple bottles of champagne, one from the Mandalay Bay casino for a shit ton of drinks… how are our livers even functioning right now?" Lizzy pauses and looks up at Sam briefly with the question, Sam shrugging in answer, before continuing. "The last one is from A Little White Wedding Chapel for the, eww, Romance Wedding Package." She disgustedly hands over the paper, Sam inspecting it.

"Says we can come by later today to pick up our pictures and commemorative DVD of the ceremony."

"Fucking awesome," Lizzy caustically responds.

"We paid cash!" he says with alarm. "How the fuck did we get four-hundred and nineteen dollars in cash when we didn't even have that much to start with when we went out last night?"

"Well there's another seven-hundred and change more in my bag," Lizzy pulls out the several bills with yet more shock on her face as she keeps searching, finding several small white paper bands. "Holy shit!"

"What?" Sam asks with worry, now in constant fright as she keeps pulling more mysterious clues to their night from her duffel. Lizzy hands over the now empty money bands. "Five-hundred, a hundred, two-thousand!"

"Jesus, where did that money come from?"

"And better question, where did it go?" Sam tacks on.

"Oh no," Lizzy groans as she pulls out one last unfamiliar item from her bag. Holding it up for Sam to see, she watches as he winces with its possibly terrifying contents.

"What do you think is on there?" Sam frightfully asks. Lizzy scans the video camera in her hands as if it were a ticking time bomb. In a way, it was.

"Seriously afraid to know," she admits.

"Only one way to find out, though."

They share frightened glances before silently coming to terms with what they must do.

"Well, this was one great way to celebrate Lou's life, huh?" Lizzy says as she drops the camera onto the comforter and holds her head in her hands once more, wishing for the millionth time in a year that her best friend were there to help her.

* * *

 


	11. Sex, Lies, and Videotape

* * *

"You've never made a sex tape or anything like that before… have you?" Lizzy questions.

"Ah, once," Sam bashfully admits while hooking up the video camera to the motel television. "With Jess."

"Yeah… I was kinda hoping you'd say something like I'd never do that, that's so not like me…" Lizzy tells him. She's fully clothed now after making Sam stay in the bathroom while she covered up, their predicament making her highly bashful in front of him suddenly when normally she wasn't so reserved. Sitting on the ridiculous round bed while hugging her drawn in knees and facing the TV, her feet tap a rapid beat into the blankets with her growing nerves.

"Sorry," Sam apologizes. "Though honestly, I said I'd never do it again." He finishes plugging everything in and sits down on the floor Indian-style in front of the screen with the device in his lap. "It was awkward to watch. And so not hot at all. We erased it immediately and promised to never do that again."

"So that can't what's on there then, right?" Lizzy asks hopefully. She really can't handle having to witness that.

"I seriously doubt that's what's on here," Sam responds truthfully while pressing play. "But I guess we're about to find out."

They both sit with eyes wide, staring at the screen while consumed by anticipation and anxiety.

Immediately they are greeted by a view of their motel room in glowing green. Night vision.

"Not a good start," Lizzy worries aloud as she sees her face appear in frame.

" _Hey baby," Lizzy's says with a kiss to the lens followed by an honest grin_.

_"Hello there, Mrs. Samuel Winchester."_

Sam shudders when he hears his voice coming from off-screen. It's eerie to take in having no recollection of ever saying or doing what he's witnessing.

_"God, I love the way that sounds," she responds while biting her bottom lip seductively as she scoots back on the round bed._

_"Me too,"_   _Sam says from behind the camera._   _"You happy?"_

"Sam, I don't think I can do this," Lizzy says from the bed, shaking as she views the disaster.

"Just hold on," Sam tells her as they keep watching, though truthfully he doesn't want to watch any more than she does.

 _"So fucking happy,"_   _Lizzy responds with her usual wide, bright smile. Her eyes are lit up with excitement. "Can't believe we actually just did that."_

 _"Me neither," Sam laughs and the camera shakes a little._ " _I love you, Lizzy." Sam backs up, getting a view of Lizzy's sprawled out body, fully clothed, through the green haze of the night vision._

_"I love you too, Sam-I-Am."_

"Fuck," Lizzy cries out, tears threatening as she hears her own voice use her nickname for Sam. It's an out-of-body experience and she's quickly losing any composure she might have had before.

" _My God, you're beautiful, you know that?" Sam's voice is heard saying as the camera suddenly steadies itself. Sam can be seen walking into frame now, standing to the side of the bed and looking down at her smiling._

" _So you tell me," she smiles up at him. Sam lowers himself, crawling over to her on the mattress. Lizzy hooks a finger into the collar of his t-shirt and pulls him close. "You're not so bad yourself, hubby." Their faces come closer, just inches apart._

"Nope!" Sam says as he pauses the video and shakes his head. "No way. Nooo."

"Oh my God," Lizzy laments, her tears now falling as she looks over to Sam on the floor. "Oh, Sam, this is so bad."

"That isn't real." Full denial is all Sam is willing to process after seeing what he just did.

"Sam, we…"

"Don't!" Sam nearly shouts to her. "Lizzy, don't! We didn't!"

"But we did!" she yells back to him, pointing at the frozen frame of them about kiss on the screen. "Look at that!"

"That's not us," Sam claims. "Can't be."

"Then who the fuck is that!" she shouts, panic fully taking over. "They look an awful lot like us. And have the same names. And clothes. And tattoos. And that Lizzy has the same nickname for that Sam as I do for you!" She ends her sentence by sharply pointing at the screen with fear.

"Shapeshifters," Sam plainly states, grasping desperately at straws.

"What!" Lizzy yells back. Has he lost his shit?

"Could be a couple of shapeshifters," he reiterates, not willing to give up the theory no matter how crazy. "You and Dean were warned they'd come after us three days ago when you offed…"

"You really believe that two shapeshifters followed us all the way to Las Vegas so they could morph their asses into us, get hitched, and fuck! On tape! Do you have any clue how ridiculous you sound right now? If they were after us, they'd have killed us by now!"

"I know," Sam admits finally.

"And our eyes would be lit up like fucking Christmas trees on that video," Lizzy quickly adds.

"I know! I just… that can't be real. Lizzy, you know in your heart that  _that_  isn't real."

"Don't know what to think, dude," she tells him, wiping the tears from her face. "Fuck, where is Dean! Sam, we really need to find him."

"We don't have the first clue as to where to even look," he responds and can see the panic begin to grip her. He too wishes Dean was there to make it better. His brother always made everything better, something he learned early on in life, and even in this fucked up situation it would really help if he were there.

"What if he's hurt, or in trouble…"

"Why don't you go talk to the front desk," Sam says, cutting her off while moving to sit next to her on the bed. Normally he would drop a comforting arm around her shoulders to make her feel better but physical contact seemed like a terrible idea in the moment. "Find out what you can. Someone has to remember us coming in last night."

"Yeah," Lizzy responds, though Sam can tell from her voice and expression that she's still alarmed. "You're not coming with?" Lizzy peers over to him with a wrinkled expression.

"No," Sam responds without looking back at her. "I'm gonna stay here… and watch."

"No, Sam, don't watch that," Lizzy pleads to him, though she knows they probably should.

"I think someone has to," he responds. "Who knows what we can get from it. You know there could be answers on that thing."

Lizzy inhales deeply and then exhales with her anxiety setting in once more. Sadly, she agreed with his logic but it makes her shake even more at the thought of him witnessing what's on that video.

"Hey," Sam gently calls to her to get her attention. "We'll figure this all out and we'll find Dean."

"Ok," she says with a deep breath. "Yeah, we'll find Dean, he'll tell us what he remembers… unless he's super fucking pissed at us." A new fear sets in hard. " What if we just ditched him last night! Or he disappeared because of what we did and he hates us."

"Dean would never hate us," Sam says, actually believing what he says to her. "Maybe he's angry right now, but we'll explain everything."

"Jesus, Sam, I can't lose him!" she looks up, fresh tears streaking her face. "What if he never forgives us for this!"

"He will," Sam lies, not knowing if Dean actually would. "Lizzy, he loves you more than anything so stop thinking like that. Stay tough with me, huh? We'll get through this."

"Ok…" she cautiously agrees, though she remains skeptical. "I just want him here right now. So bad."

"Me too," Sam agrees, knowing his brother's help would be good right about now. "For now though, we're on our own. You go check out the front desk, I'll… be here."

* * *

Holy shit, his head hurts.

That's Dean's first thought as he comes to. The sun is beating onto him as he lies on his stomach on the soft ground and his head pounds a painful rhythm along with his heartbeat. Moving his arm to shade the sun from his eyes before attempting to open them, he is greeted with sand dropping over his face. Shaking his head to get it off and spitting to get the grains out of his mouth, he swiftly sits up with a start.

"What the fuck…" he mutters as he surveys his surroundings. Sand and blue sky as far as the eye can see. The dunes rise and fall across the landscape and the vicious sun makes the horizon shimmer and wave with the heat, even in February.

Dean has not a single clue how he got out here. The last he remembers he was getting drinks with Lizzy and Sam. They spent the day drinking by the pool and relaxing before heading to the bar Emily suggested they meet at. A few beers and whiskey shots were downed, mostly by him and Lizzy, and then boom… he wakes up on a sand mattress in the middle of the Mojave. At least he hopes it's the Mojave. This wouldn't be the first time Dean's woken up and not recognized where he was, not by a long shot, but alone and stranded like his? This is a first. He's never drank enough for this before.

His stomach suddenly churns as the urge to vomit hits hard. Before he knows it, Dean is doubled over on his knees as the contents of his stomach spill onto the sand below him. He can't remember how long it's been since he's had to puke the morning after drinking either. God damn, he must have chugged half of Vegas.

Once his stomach settles and his mind is functioning enough, Dean reaches into his back pocket for his phone. He needs to call Lizzy and Sam, find out what's going on and why. For the first time he panics as his hand comes up empty. Frantically he begins searching all his pants pockets. All empty. No wallet, no phone, no weapons, no keys, nothing. Keys! Where's his baby? Who has her?

"Sammy, you better have my car," Dean mutters to himself as he stands up.

Brushing off and shaking the sand out of his clothes as best he can, he turns a full three-hundred and sixty degrees. Nothing. Just more sand and sky. Fuck. Checking the watch he's now very thankful he put on before going to that bar the night before he sees that it's nearly noon. Shit, he slept a long time out here. How did he manage not to wake up for so long?

"At least I got to work on my tan," Dean jokes to no one as he looks at the suns position and determines which direction is east. "George Hamilton can suck it."

And with that he begins walking. Having no other option but to pick a direction and hope for the best, Dean chooses to go east since most of the Mojave Desert lies to the west of Las Vegas.

"I  _really_  can't take a fucking vacation, can I?"

* * *

 


	12. Through the Backdoor

* * *

Sam takes a very deep breath, preparing for the inevitable task at hand. He'd give anything to not have to do this right now. Hell, he'll  _do_  anything else over having to do this right now. Shove a monster, any monster,  _ten_  monsters at him and he'd gladly deal with it than watch this video.

Sitting on the edge of the tacky motel room bed, Sam presses a shaky finger onto the play button of the video camera.

_The two formerly frozen people on the screen begin kissing, Lizzy humming her contentment against Sam's lips and Sam quickly reaching out to run his hand down the front of her clothed body, starting with her neck, dragging down between her breasts, and only stopping momentarily when he reaches between her still denim-covered legs. She giggles quietly as she grasps the bottom hem of Sam's t-shirt, swiftly bringing it over his head._

How did they let this happen, Sam wonders to himself as his face scrunches at the display. Watching this is like self-inflicted torture. Everything feels wrong and so very amiss. How do they not remember any of this?

" _My God," Lizzy sighs with a wide grin, her hands on his torso as he hovers over her. "Speaking of fucking beautiful…"_

_Sam leans down to capture her lips again, their kiss deeper than before. Lizzy runs her hands down his back and her legs wrap around his torso. Sam sits back, pulling her with him until she is sitting in his lap in the center of the bed, their lips still very much attached. Sam backs away, bringing her tank top over her head and throwing it haphazardly away. His hands ghost smoothly over her sides before coming up to cup her breasts over her bra._

" _And you're gorgeous," he says to her with all honesty. "My brother never deserved you, Lizzy. He was never good enough for you."_

"No," Sam lets slip as he registers what his onscreen self just said. He'd  _never_ say that. Ever. He'd never think that either. Dean deserved Lizzy completely and absolutely. With everything he's been through and all the good he's done, Dean has earned himself the happiness Lizzy happily gives him.

" _You're right," Lizzy grins before kissing him quickly. "But you sure do, Sam. We deserve each other." She combs her fingers through his hair and looks into his eyes. "And I know you've been jealous and I never wanted that for you. But that's all over now."_

How the  _fuck_ would Lizzy know that! He's never told anyone that, not Dean, not her, not Bobby, no one!

" _Because you're all mine," Sam says as he tangles his hands in her hair and pulls her in again. They kiss once more before his hands sweep her hair off to the side, his mouth attacking her now exposed neck._

" _Oh, Sam," Lizzy sighs._

" _Mm, all mine," he breathes out against her skin._

Sam pauses the video and stands up, pacing the room as he needed a brief reprieve from the movie they made. It's just too damn much.

Walking swiftly to his duffel, Sam searches with high hopes that Dean's flask he grabbed last minute before they left Bobby's is still in there. His heart jumps when he sees it, the silver shining in what little light there was in the small room. Immediately, Sam unscrews the cap and tips it up, taking down a solid amount of the whiskey in it. Once the burn starts to wear off he takes his place once more on the bed.

Dean was a lucky bastard, Sam knew that. He found Lizzy, his soul mate for fucks sake. The way they look at each other, the way they can escape in each other, the way she always stands by him and helps him, Sam's only human and wants that for himself. Plus, Lizzy is a hell of a woman. She's kind and patient, insanely understanding, beautiful if he was being honest, and she fit perfectly into their lives. He can't help but think about how much better his life would be if he could have that also. Of course he was jealous! How could he not be!

Sam pushes play again and reluctantly continues watching. He drinks more whiskey and muddles through.

_Moans fill the room as clothes continue to disappear. Sam lays her on her back again and makes his way down her body._

" _Oh God," Lizzy hisses out as Sam's tongue makes its way down her stomach while he lowers her jeans. Once they are off, Sam stands to take off the remainder of his clothes as she watches with a carnal smile. Lizzy's eyes light up at the sight of him, getting a reminder of his impressive size. "Amazing," she lets out while crawling over to him. She's on all fours, face level with his hips, and she licks her lips._

"Fuck," Sam complains while tipping back more whiskey when Lizzy's lips part to take him in. "Dean, I'm so fucking sorry." He says it to the air, trying to take comfort in the words he speaks. It doesn't work. "You're never gonna forgive me."

He sits and watches, searching the background details for clues, studying everything about them on screen for something,  _anything_ that looks off. Not until he gets nearly through the whole painfully awkward to watch video does he view something that makes his eyes bug out of his head. "That's not her!" Sam nearly shouts with happiness as he stands up with a jolt after pausing the video. "It's not her!"

Running out the door and sprinting to the front office, he goes to catch Lizzy and tell her the good news.

* * *

Throughout his first hour of tedious, boring, and over-heated walking, Dean had come to one obvious conclusion; there was no way booze was the lone culprit for his current predicament. His pounding head alone lets him know that he clearly drank even more then he normally does last night, which is a whole hell of a lot by the way, and with his experience in abusing alcohol it shouldn't be possible for his drunkenness to get that far. That and whenever he drinks he grows even more attached to Lizzy than normal, sometimes becoming a little embarrassing with his hand holding and typical boyfriend behavior. Sam has always taken it upon himself to let him know several a next morning how corny he's acted. Right now Lizzy's nowhere to be found so he has no idea what could have happened to lead to them being separated.

There's another serious concern. As Dean wipes a forearm across his sweating brow for the hundredth time, he wonders what's happened to Lizzy and Sam. If he's been dropped in the middle of absolutely fucking nowhere, then are they wondering around out here too? Or maybe they're back at the motel trying to figure out what happened to him. Either way, the answer sucks. His missing phone is really putting a damper on figuring anything out.

Trudging on, feet continually sinking into the sand with every step, his anger grows. This is just too odd, too weird a situation to not be suspicious. Foul play. Dean's sure they're being fucked with, or at least he is.

"This sucks," he grumbles to himself while pulling away his t-shirt from his chest to get some air on his skin. Even though it's winter, Nevada deserts were still pretty hot and with no shade or shelter to be had, he's overheating. Unsure of how long he'll last out there, the thought of maybe not surviving creeps in for the first time. He had no water and at the rate he's sweating, he'll be dehydrated in no time… if he isn't already.

This would be one of those times when a sudden and unexpected visit from Castiel would be great instead of awful, Dean thinks to himself. Then it dawns on him.

"Such a fucking moron," he quietly calls himself before shouting loudly. "Cas!"

Dean waits and nothing happens. "Cas! Come on, man! Need your help here!"

Once again, nothing and he sighs loudly. "Alright, fine. Hail Castiel, full of… well, grace," he huffs a laugh having recently discovered how true that is, "Hallowed be thy…"

"Dean," Castiel immediately greets from behind where he's standing. Turning swiftly around, he sighs with happiness.

"Damn, am I glad to see you, Cas."

* * *

"Hi there," Lizzy greets the man behind the front desk of the motel with a very fake smile. It took her some time alone out in the parking lot while taking deep breaths before she could compose herself enough to come in and now that she's back in her right mind as much as she can be, she's ready to figure this whole situation out. The clerk looks up from his newspaper and grins, clearly recognizing her immediately.

"Well good morning to you!" he happily returns. "Or should I say afternoon? I hope you and the new husband had a good night." He winks to her and Lizzy works harder to keep her smile in place.

"That it appears we did," he returns. "Um, so we were a little drunk when we got here last night…"

"Oh, darlin', drunk ain't the word for it," he laughs. "I'd say you were Vegas-style wasted."

"Right," Lizzy cautiously agrees. "Um, sorry if we were any trouble, uh…"

"Rick," he laughs as he reminds her of his name. "And you were no problem at all. You two were cute if not anything else."

"Good," Lizzy clenches her jaw at the thought. Cute, with Sam, weird. "So, ah, Rick, I was wondering what you remember from us checking in. Like, was there anything strange about us, or anything you thought that was a little off?"

"Not really," he smiles. "You two came busting through the front door, laughing and pawing at each other like any other drunken newlywed couple we see. But I have to say, you seemed happy."

"Usually the newlyweds around here aren't happy?" she challenges, wanting to know why they so obviously stood out to him.

"No, they're happy, but there was something different about you two," he clerk says with fondness. "Very rarely do I get such a good vibe from the couples that come through here. Most I'd say were victim to the charms of booze and debauchery and I'd bet anything that they're divorced before their first anniversary. But you two…" he wags his finger at her. "…I like you two. You have something serious. Could see it in the way you looked at each other and the way you smiled up at him… just heartwarming."

"Lucky us," Lizzy says quietly while looking down and sighing. She notices the guest book on the counter of the front desk just then. "Um, you know, I was so drunk last night that I lost a necklace. It's silver and the pendent on it looks like a hand almost. It's a family heirloom and I was hoping I'd dropped it here last night and you maybe had found it." Total bullshit, of course.

"I didn't find anything, but maybe my wife did while I was out for a few. Let me check out back."

"Thank you," Lizzy responds as she watches the man disappear through a doorway. Once he's gone, she pulls the large book over and searches the last few entries. She sees theirs. It's written in Sam's chicken scratch handwriting.

_Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Winchester_

He used his real name! She's well aware that this was technically supposed to be a few-day vacation, but they never used their real names at motels… ever. And that means they must not have used a fake-named credit card either.

"I'm sorry, hon," the clerk apologizes with a sad look when he comes back into the room. "I didn't find anything."

"That's alright," Lizzy brushes off. "Um, can I ask how we paid last night?"

"Oh, you paid cash," he smiles. "You guys said you made a killing at the casino last night and then used a nice wad of crisp bills to pay for the next few days up front. We love customers like you two." Winking once more to her, Lizzy shifts uncomfortably on her feet. The bell of the front door rings loudly as Lizzy turns around to see Sam rushing into the office.

"Hello, Mr. Winchester!" the man behind the desk happily greets. "Good to see you again!"

"Ah," Sam stares at the man for a beat with wide eyes as he clearly doesn't remember the man. "Good to see you… again… too."

"What's going on?" Lizzy asks with total confusion.

"Need to talk to you," he says, grabbing her hand and heading to pull her out the door, away from the clerk.

"Ok, ah, nice talking to you," Lizzy says over her shoulder as Sam leads her out the door.

"Oh, you too," the man slyly responds.

Once outside the office and standing in the parking lot, Sam turns sharply to face Lizzy with a wide smile.

"Hey, so we used our real names," she warns him. "Or rather your real name and my  _new_  real name. And we paid cash for the next few days. What the fuck is that about?"

"It's not you on that video," he blurts out, pushing her findings aside as he's too excited to let her know the good news.

"What!" Lizzy asks with surprise. "How do you know!"

"I just… um…" Sam stutters, unsure of how to let her know. In his enthusiasm over discovering that she wasn't the one they saw on screen, he hadn't thought about how he'd word his verification to her. "You did something that was off character."

"Nice… wait," Lizzy stops him, her face dropping from a smile to a serious look as curiosity once again takes hold. "What did I do? Or fake me do?"

"Doesn't matter," Sam tries to push aside the question. "Point is it isn't you! This is a good thing!"

Lizzy narrows her eyes at him with her hands on her hips and gets a weird feeling. She isn't letting this one go so easily. "Tell me."

"Lizzy, come on…"

"No, I think I need to know," she pushes. "I mean how do  _you_  even know this… whatever I did… is out of character for me?"

"Because Dean told me," Sam says, his cheeks flashing a quick pink color as her grows more uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Told you what?" Lizzy voice asks, now annoyed and a little scared.

"He said there was something he wanted to do with you," Sam explains, looking away from her as he tells her, his shoes suddenly interesting to look at. "And he said it was something you said no to and in the video, you definitely did it."

"What is it we're talking about here, Sam?" Lizzy questions and Sam stays quiet. "Your brother can be a bit fucking creative, ok? I've had to turn down a couple things so far."

"Gross," Sam complains, not wanting to hear this about his brother.

"We're both adults here, dude. Just tell me!"

"He said you… didn't want to… holy shit," Sam struggles to get out as he shakes his head. Taking in a deep breath, he sucks it up and tells her. "He said you weren't a fan of… letting people in through the back door." He just couldn't outright say it.

"In through the back door?" Lizzy says incredulously.

"Yeah," Sam simply returns, avoiding her eyes again.

"You mean like taking it in the ass?"

"Yeah, to put it crudely, I guess," Sam returns exasperatedly with her blunt way of saying it.

"Ok," Lizzy looks down at the pavement. "Right." She stays quiet for a moment and Sam begins to question his logic.

"It makes sense though, right?" he questions her. "You don't do that so it can't be you."

"Yeah…." Her eyes look any and everywhere but at his own and Sam realizes he'd been misinformed.

"Jesus Christ, Lizzy!" Sam nearly shouts at her. "You've done that!"

"Only a couple times," she admits. It's her turn to go red with embarrassment. "It was out of total curiosity."

"Then why did you tell Dean no! Why did you lie to him!"

"Because… I didn't want to do that with him yet. I wasn't ready," she explains. "He's too big… shit!" She covers a hand over her mouth and shuts her eyes with sheer regret as soon as the words leave her lips.

"No!" Sam shouts, eyes wide and horrified by all that she shares with him.

"Sorry!" Lizzy shouts back and latches her hands onto his forearm with her desperate need to apologize. "I'm so sorry!"

"Wait, so then that probably still wasn't you then, right?" Sam tries to rationalize and grasp at straws. "I mean, if you had that reservation with Dean, then it would still stand with me, right?"

"I would guess so," she says, though she's sure if she was drunk enough with the right person, she'd try anything. She's pretty sexually adventurous. It's one of the wonderful details Dean loves about her and if someone she trusts had asked for that while she was hammered, she isn't sure she'd say no. At this point, Dean just hadn't gotten her wasted enough before asking. "I can't promise it, though."

Sam sighs loudly and walks in a little circle around himself, shaking his head rapidly as he finds himself back at square one.

"God, this is awful," Lizzy complains, feeling over exposed to the man who is supposed to be a brother to her. "Hey, wait… why are you only concerned about me doing that? You're not into that… are you?"

"What?" Sam stalls as he thinks quickly as to how to answer. "No. I just… because of what Dean said… this isn't about me!"

"Ah, your dick was in my ass, Sam! I'm pretty sure it's about you too!" Lizzy loudly rebuts, making an older couple send them dirty looks for their inappropriate conversation. Sam pulls Lizzy in quickly by the elbow and whispers down to her as he's hyper aware of his volume now.

"So you're telling me I watched almost that whole fucking video for nothing?"

"Is that all you got out of it?" she sadly asks.

"Yeah."

"Then, I guess so."

Sam pauses, backing away from her before putting hands on his hips in frustration and looks over to her with fire written in his face.

"I'm seriously uncomfortable with everything I am learning about you today," Sam informs her angrily as he turns to walk back to their room.

"Right back at ya', dude," Lizzy responds, following behind him as the rose color never fully leaves her cheeks. "And I've never been this happy to have not watched a porn video in my entire life." By the sound of it already, Lizzy sure dodged a bullet.

"Yeah, it was a little intense," Sam admits, the seedy, unclean feeling returning to him. "A lot intense."

"Fucking yuck, dude." Looking out over the parked cars as they walk, Lizzy stops and grabs Sam's arm with worry. She points across the lot and Sam quickly spies what caught her attention.

"The Impala's here," Sam states when he spies the shiny black car a few spots away. "We have the car."

"Which means Dean doesn't" she adds, peering up at him with a new kind of panic. "He would never leave his baby. What the fuck is going on here? Where the hell is he?"

"Couldn't tell you," Sam returns while finding the whole situation even more troubling than before. "But I think we need to put aside everything else and find him. Now."

* * *

 


	13. My Boyfriend's Back

* * *

"Why are you in the middle of the desert?" Castiel flatly questions while peering straight into Dean's eyes as they stand facing each other, feet buried in the sand.

"Good fucking question," Dean returns quickly.

"How did you get here?"

"Another fantastic question," Dean says with annoyance. "Come on, Cas. Let's get this show on the road."

Castiel cocks his head to the side with a furrowed brow. "What show?"

"It's a saying. It means… that… just zap us back to civilization, alright."

Castiel stares at him for a moment before Dean loses any semblance of patience.

"What is it!"

"I am not your personal transport, Dean," Castiel reminds. "I think you forget that sometimes. And possibly take advantage."

"Cas, I'm not using you as a fucking bus here!" Dean nearly shouts while losing his patience. "I totally understand that you're saving my ass."

"Again."

"Yes, again," Dean calms a little. "Cas, I need to get to Lizzy and Sam and make sure they're alright. I don't even know where they are."

Castiel looks oddly at Dean for a split second with a very distant, very thoughtful look in his eye before fully focusing again on him. "They're fine. I checked."

"Good," Dean slightly smiles as he finally relaxes for a moment. "Now can we…"

Before he can finish the question, Castiel is pressing his fingers to Dean's forehead and they're gone.

* * *

"Let's just find the keys and go backtrack to the places we went last night," Lizzy suggests as the walk back into the tacky motel room. Sam, walking right behind her, recognizes her anxiety over the whole situation as it hits her hard. He knows she's doing her best to keep it together, but how long she can keep that up without Dean there he doesn't know.

"I think we should start at the bar we first went to…" Sam starts to agree before she stops him.

"Oh, damn it, Sam!" Lizzy shouts when she sees the TV screen before immediately turning her back to it with a hand out to block the view. He never unplugged the video and now there is a frozen frame of the two of them, completely naked with Sam standing behind her as she's bent over the edge of the bed. "You couldn't have turned that off or something!"

"Sorry," he apologizes as he moves towards the TV.

"Jesus Christ!" Lizzy shouts.

"I got excited when I thought it wasn't you so I just ran."

Before Sam can get to the television, the fluttering sound fills the room with a small gust of wind. Both Sam and Lizzy turn to see Dean and Castiel standing in in the middle of the room. Dean's clothes are sandy and dirty and his face and arms a now darker tan with a nice hint of red to it

"Oh, thank God!" Lizzy lets out, forgetting everything else, as she sprints to Dean and throws her arms around his neck, crashing her full body weight against him. He returns her embrace, happy to know she's alright and the same fate hadn't come to her. It felt good to be where he considered home.

"I'm fine, L," he softly tells her through her hair in an attempt to calm her. She's shaking in his arms, clearly having been on absolute edge with his absence.

"I love you," she whispers against his neck before pulling away and looking up at him with saddened eyes. "So much."

"I love you too," Dean returns with a confused look at how upset she is. He runs a hand down the back of her head, his fingers weaving through her hair. "Relax, L, I'm fine. It's ok."

"No it's not," her hands cupping his face. "Hot Shot, nothing is ok."

"Why not?" Dean asks her while taking in the very distraught look on her face. "What's going on?" She appears to be just seconds from tears and he looks around a bit to realize the room they are in isn't the one they checked into yesterday. Deciding to look to Sam for some answers, his eyes start making their way over to his little brother when they make a pit stop on the green glowing screen. He freezes, heart stopping for a moment, when he registers what exactly it is that he's seeing. Dean pushes Lizzy away from him and points at the frozen frame of pure sex.

"What is that!" Dean shouts as he looks over with wide eyes at his brother. Sam opens his mouth to answer, but words fail to form. Instead he blows out a breath and clears his throat. Dean's shocked face turns to an angry one when he looks down to Lizzy. Her tears are spilling and she reaches out to hold one of his hands. He quickly backs away to avoid contact with her and scans the room, seeing the disheveled state it's in. Dean puts everything together rapidly. "What the fuck is going on here! Sam, what the hell!"

"It's not what you're thinking," Sam finally forces out in a rush.

"Oh, that's good!" Dean shouts angrily. "Because right now I'm thinking that my brother has been ball deep inside my girlfriend in some shitty honeymoon suite while I was stranded Moses style out in the fucking desert!" His voice and hand gestures become bolder as this statement goes on, his anger building steadily.

The room grows quiet as neither Lizzy nor Sam know how to answer him.

"Your silence is not comforting here!" Dean hotly informs them as he paces the room, a hand washing over his face.

"We're really not sure what's going on," Lizzy quietly says to him, watching him walk back and forth while she wrings her hands with her nerves. "We woke up here with no recollection of anything from last night."

"So what, you're blaming fucking my brother on booze!" Dean yells to her, making her flinch with his tone. Dean has never once yelled at her like this. She didn't think he ever would. Then again, she never thought he'd ever have reason to.

"No!" Lizzy cries out, her guilt and frustration making the tears flow faster.

"And why the fuck are you taping that!" Dean shouts, his arm and pointer finger extended to the television as his blood boils over.

"I'm trying to explain that neither of us remembers anything, not even… that. Damn it! Sam!" Lizzy motions to the TV.

"Sorry," Sam responds in a small tone, afraid to anger Dean any more. He walks to the TV and turns it off finally.

"Is sharing a partner with your brother a common practice that I am unaware of?" Castiel finally pipes in from the place he's been standing the whole time while observing the disaster unfolding. All three look at him for a beat before Dean answers.

"No, Cas, it's not." Dean then glares at Sam, his hatred growing by the second. "Family is usually more important than that."

"Dean…" Sam tries to explain something, anything, but stops when his very fired up brother takes a determined step in his direction.

"Alright, stop!" Lizzy steps between the two of them, hands pressing into Dean's chest to keep him from getting to Sam. "Can I get five minutes with Dean alone please? We need to sort this shit out and too many people to be pissed at in the room at the same time isn't helping anything."

Before anyone can move, Castiel is gone, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the situation. Sam just looks between the two of them before even moving.

"You, sit down," Lizzy directs to Dean while pushing him lightly towards the bed before turning to Sam. "And you, outside. Now." She points to the door and waits for Sam to be gone. Once the motel door is closed she takes a split second to gather herself, trying to stop shaking enough to concentrate. She notices that Dean is still standing up, scanning the room as the lines in his face grow deeper and deeper. "Just please, sit and talk to me. Please?"

"I'm not sitting on that thing," he refuses like a stubborn child while eyeing the disheveled bed suspiciously.

"Here then," Lizzy grabs a wooden chair from the corner of the room and places it facing the edge of the bed. "Sit. For me."

"You're lucky I love you as much as I do," he warns her while talking a seat, Lizzy doing the same across from him on the round mattress. "Otherwise I'd be halfway to the east coast by now, leaving a bleeding Sam behind to kiss my fucking ass."

"I know that, I do, and thank you for listening to me before you pummel your brother," Lizzy calmly says, reaching out to take his hand. Once more, Dean finds himself uncomfortable with the idea of physical contact with her in the moment and he leans back into the chair, arms folded across his chest. She sighs with her eyes closed, never before experiencing such a harsh rift between them. "Do you remember  _anything_  from last night?"

"Drinks at that first dive bar," he simply says, devoid of any real emotion. "Then sand in my face this morning."

"You woke up in the desert?" Lizzy wonders, not knowing what to think of this detail.

"Yeah." He's yet to look her in the eye once since they sat down.

"When we woke up, we were here with no memories either," Lizzy tries to explain in an even tone. "Don't you think it's a little fucking weird that all three of us woke up without recollection of last night? And without a clue as to why we were  _where_ we were?"

Dean looks at her with stone-faced silence. It is weird, he agrees completely, but he's beginning to shut down with everything being thrown at him. Lizzy can sense it and literally feels his hatred and panic in her chest as if it's her own.

"Dean, I think something is royally fucking with us here."

"Well, one of us is definitely getting fucked," Dean says, aiming for the jugular.

"Oh, knock it off, Dean. I don't think anything is how it looks right now. I mean, how did you get out in the desert? And why would Sam and I not be concerned by you going missing last night? And why the hell would I sleep with Sam? It doesn't add up."

"L, how could you do this?" Dean finally looks at her. He didn't hear a word she said. His face appears angry still but in his eyes, all she sees is the hurt man that he is. "You know how much I love you."

"And I love you too," she says, voice cracking as her emotions grip her again. "I love you more than anything and I would never,  _ever_  do this to you. I don't know what is happening here, but I can promise you I did not cheat on you with your brother, not in my right mind. Something is seriously screwing with us, I can feel it."

Dean closes his eyes to escape from it all, just for a second if possible. Never in his life did he ever think something like this was possible. She loved him, he knew that, and even if what they did wasn't under their own direction, this hurt. Deep.

"You trust me, right?" she asks him.

"With my life," he responds, lids still closed.

"Then trust me when I say something really wrong is happening," she says in a pleading tone. "Hot Shot, you know me. I'm you soul mate! That should be enough proof for you to believe me."

Dean opens his eyes and looks at her, her chestnut eyes pleading silently with him. She makes a good point. One would only assume that soul mates don't cheat on each other. They don't, right?

"What do you think it is?" Dean quietly questions, going along with her theory for now. What else choice does he have? Plus, he  _did_ wake up in the middle of the desert. That  _was_ pretty weird.

"Not sure yet," she says, a flash of hope flaring up in her gut with his willingness to at least talk about what's happening. "Sam suggested it might be shifters since that one we offed a few days ago threated us. I told him no because…"

"They would have tried to kill us by now," Dean finishes her thought.

"Exactly," Lizzy explains and sighs with the distress of everything. "All I know right now is it has to be something that can mess with reality pretty hard."

"Or pull a really good prank," Dean adds when it all comes together. "Shit." He gets up without explanation and walks to the motel room door and pulls it open. Peering outside, he sees Sam leaning against the wall of the building, arms folded across his chest and eyes trained on the paved lot.

"Hey," Dean calls to him. Sam whips his head up to look at Dean, optimistic puppy eyes immediately latching onto his own. "Get in here."

Sam cautiously takes a step forward and thinks hard before walking inside. Is he about to get his ass kicked?

"Dude, I'm not gonna kick your ass. Just get in here," Dean impatiently says to him, reading his brother's thoughts. Sam sucks it up and walks inside, shutting the door behind him and taking the seat Dean had been in. Dean stands tall with in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest like he does whenever highly frustrated and very angry. Not a good sign.

"Alright, listen," Dean says in an even and what he thinks is a calm tone, though for the two listening it's still quite fiery. "I have no fucking clue what is going on here, but I do know something is definitely up. I think we need to take a second and figure out what's generally screwing with us but that doesn't mean I'm not fucking angry!"

"You have every right to be," Sam quietly adds, understanding completely.

"Damn straight!" Dean responds. "Take me through what you know and then we'll go from there, but I gotta say, this stinks to high hell like trickster."

Sam nods his agreement. How he didn't think of it before he doesn't know. Maybe it was the threat of possibly being the worst brother ever that clouded his thoughts but he'd put money on it being the trickster at this point though.

"That little bitch is always screwing with our head to teach us some jacked up lesson," Dean adds. "Maybe he's back."

"I hope so," Sam responds darkly. He's been waiting for the chance to kill that asshole for what he put him through.

Lizzy's anxiety is still running on high but at least he's going to listen and not assume the worst. She stands up and walks towards him, praying he won't shy away again. She grabs his hands and looks up to him much taller height. "I'm glad you're gonna trust us here."

Dean says nothing in return just peers down at their interlocked fingers. He wants to believe with all he has that she's still his.

"L?" Dean says with a wrinkled brow as he keeps his focus on their hands, his grip getting tighter.

"What?" she wonders cautiously.

"What's with the ring?" He lifts his gaze and meets her eyes. "Why are you wearing that thing?"

* * *

 


	14. Welcome to the Family (Legally)

* * *

You have to love Las Vegas. A liquor store on every block. How fucking convenient when you've been betrayed and need to drink away to pain, huh?

Dean sits in the driver's seat of the parked Impala, stereo blasting Led Zeppelin and windows down to catch the breeze of the cars whizzing by on the road. Tipping the bottle of whiskey wrapped in a paper bag to his lips, Dean attempts desperately to make this insane day more manageable. Back hunched, he leans his forehead onto the steering wheel and sighs loudly. Why does this shit always happen? Nothing can ever just work out easily… or happily. Everything has to be done in the most impossible and difficult way. God forbid he finds a chick that's awesome and it doesn't turn into a crap shoot of a mess at least a few times. Shit, between the year they didn't talk to each other and the whole ordeal with Laraje screwing with them a few months back, it's already been enough of a bumpy road. Now this?

"Hey," he can barely hear Sam greet over the music as the passenger side door creaks open. Sam folds himself into the seat and pulls the door closed, sitting quietly once he's turned down 'I Can't Quit You Baby'. He watches Dean lift his head off the wheel to take yet another long pull from the small bottle. Sam doesn't want to push it and knows that when they needed to talk, it was best to stay quiet and gage each other's headspace first.

Dean looks over at Sam for a second, an unreadable expression in place, as he holds out the bottle to offer it up.

"Thanks," Sam huffs and readily takes the liquor, taking down a large gulp as quickly as he can before swallowing it with a grimace and passing it back. "Figured I'd find you here. All I had to do was follow Robert Plant's voice. It's like breadcrumbs."

"I know this isn't either of your faults," Dean quietly says while looking out the windshield, staring into the neighboring lot, and brushing off Sam's lame attempt to lighten everything. He's had time to really think the whole situation over while on his booze run. He knows Sam and Lizzy better than himself and he knows they'd never do this, not without some outside influence of the evil variety, and he's doing his best to keep that thought in the forefront of his mind.

"You do?" Sam questions, not sure he believes him with the way Dean's reacted to the whole thing so far. Once he saw that ring on Lizzy's finger, he barely was able to say a word. All he could do was bolt out the door and head straight for the comfort of cheap whiskey, Zep's debut album, and his second favorite woman... his baby.

"Yeah. I definitely think something has done a bang up job of making our lives a living hell right now and you couldn't help that. You didn't ask for this."

"Couldn't agree more."

"I'm not mad at you, Sammy," Dean admits while tipping the bottle up again.

"It's ok if you are, Dean," Sam tells him. "I understand it. This is seriously fucked up and if the tables were turned, I can't guarantee I wouldn't wanna kill you."

"No," Dean adds in a tone that makes Sam want to cry. Hearing his voice Sam knows his brother is more broken by all this than anything else and he feels it's all his fault, intentional or not. "I know you didn't mean to do this and I know you aren't trying to take her from me or anything like that."

Sam nods his understanding, thankful that Dean found a level headed place to be for all of this.

"It's just that… fuck, Sam," Dean laments as he finally turns and meets Sam's eyes for the first time since he got into the car. "You made her a Winchester. Officially… and very legally."

An entire new wave of crushing guilt overcomes Sam with Dean's words.

" _You_  did that," he continues. "Not me." Dean sighs heavily with another sip from his bottle.

Sam hadn't looked at it in that light yet and now he understands completely why it was that Dean ran away immediately when he saw that ring. He took away something from Dean that is meaningful and important and Sam could never give that back.

"I know we both consider her one of us already," Dean continues sadly, the burden clear in his tone. "But… I wanted to be the one that… you know."

"Shit, Dean…" Sam begins to profusely apologize but Dean holds up a hand to cut him off.

"Not your fault," he reminds him. "I know it isn't, so don't bother saying sorry or anything."

An uncomfortable silence falls into place as Sam sits with the new crushing guilt. Dean had actually thought about this before, about marriage, about Lizzy being a real Winchester. They'd never spoken about it brother to brother, as they never talk much about feelings and crap like that to one another, and as much as he's surprised to hear Dean admit it out loud, Sam's also not surprised at all that Dean's thought about it. The domestic life calls to Dean, Sam's always known that. He has a natural dialogue with kids (Sam's always assumed it's because at heart Dean is still very much a kid) and he somehow found it easy to be a committed man to Lizzy, something Sam never saw coming. He wants that quiet, mundane, safe life for himself and, more importantly, Lizzy.

"Take that damn thing off, would you?" Dean gruffly asks while sipping more whiskey and nodding to Sam's hand containing the tacky gold ring. He didn't need any more visual reminders of his screwed up situation than he's already had for the day.

"Yeah, I tried," he says while once again trying to pull the jewelry off his finger, it not budging in the least. "Can't get the fucking thing off."

"Figures," Dean remarks, looking off into the distance once more. "So what's our next move?"

"We have a paper trail of places we went last night. Ow," Sam lets out, giving the ring one last hard tug without success and shaking his hand with the pain. "Thought we could start checking them out."

"Where to first?"

"Ah, we were thinking the chapel," Sam answers quietly. "Our receipt says we have pictures and stuff to pick up. I think looking through that stuff might help."

"Awesome," Dean returns, sucking down more liquor with the idea of having to look at more visual proof that the two most important people in his life are legally bound to each other.

"We also have the casino we went gambling at to check. And probably the motel room we first checked into when we got here. I'm pretty sure we stopped by and forgot. I have my bag with me, so does Lizzy. We didn't take out weapons duffel though which is seriously weird."

"We could also ask Emily if she saw anything," Dean suggests. "She was supposed to meet us, but I don't remember if we saw her or not."

"I don't either. That's a good idea," Sam admits.

Dean thinks for a second about how easy it would be to turn the key in the ignition and get the hell out of dodge, putting as much distance between himself and this disaster as he possibly can. But no, he'd never do that. No matter what, he's there for his brother and Lizzy. He'd never leave them high and dry, as much as it absolutely sucks to be around them at the moment. "We should split up," Dean suggests to his brother. "Get more ground covered quicker."

"Yeah," Sam tentatively agrees. "Alright."

"I'll go talk to Emily and maybe stop by the casino," Dean begins. "You and L head to the chapel and I'll meet you back at our first motel when you're done."

Sam nods, getting it immediately. Dean's trying to run. He wants nothing to do with the married couple and the evidence of it all, and Sam understands completely.

"I'll let Lizzy know," Sam tells Dean as he reaches for the door handle. "We'll take a cab, meet back up in a couple hours."

"Sure," Dean responds as Sam gets out of the car. "I'll find a payphone to let you know what I find. Somehow lost my phone."

"Sounds good… oh, wait," Sam calls out. "Keys?"

Dean pulls them out of the ignition and tosses them through the open passenger window, Sam catching them and heading to the back of the car. He pops the trunk open and rummages through its contents, finding what he needed buried at the bottom. Pulling out the three wooden stakes with tips coated in now dried blood that they still kept close by, never knowing when the trickster would rear his ugly and annoying little head again, Sam closes the trunk and walks around to open the driver's side door. They'd always wanted to be ready when they ran into that fucker again and they both were looking forward to the payback they wanted to give to him.

"Here," Sam says while handing over the keys and one of the stakes. "Better be safe than sorry."

"Thanks," Dean responds quietly, taking the items and starting up the car. Without looking up, he departs. "See you in a few."

* * *

 


	15. Words Unspoken

* * *

Emily… no wait, Ginger Snap (she  _is_  working after all)… makes her way around the large room filled with the slim pickings the midday shift usually brought. She should never have taken the dayshift for her friend, she thinks to herself. She was more of a busy, nighttime only, A-squad kind of dancer, but what can be done when a friend needs help? So, she wanders aimlessly, biding her time until she hears a familiar voice that sends shivers down her spine.

"Hey," he says as she feels a hand drop onto her shoulder. Turning to see who it is, she recognizes him immediately and the smile the spreads across her face couldn't be stopped if she tried.

"Hey yourself, drunk ass," she quips with a smile. "You guys sure… wow do  _you_ look like shit." He really did. His cotton t-shirt is stained with dirt and sweat, his hair matted, and his red-tinged skin stands out against the what was once white shirt. And he stunk. Aw hell, who is she kidding? He still looked good.

"Thanks," Dean pushes her comment to the side. He knew he was a mess but didn't have the time to care so much. "You got a minute to talk?"

"Sure, just let me beat off all these customers with a stick first," Ginger responds sarcastically, standing still for just a moment while staring up at him, before speaking again. "Done. I'm all yours… just not if you want another lap dance. You smell." She laughs to herself as she drops down into one of the swiveling, cheetah upholstered chairs to her side.

"Jesus," he mumbles to himself as his day keeps adding insult (literally) to injury. He sits across from her at the small table and dives right into why he was there. "Look, I need to know what you remember from last night."

"Ah, weird. Why?"

"Because we don't remember much ourselves," Dean explains with only basic details. "And we need to get a rundown if possible."

"Fuck, you know, I gotta tell you, I like your guy's style. The three of you are seriously fun," Ginger Snap laughs. "I got to the bar a little after nine last night and you were already waste cases."

"What else?" Dean prods, need much more info if possible.

"Not much else, honestly," she answers, leaning back in the chair and crossing her legs. "You all didn't last too much longer, especially you. You were having a hard time standing you were so drunk."

"Ok…" Dean comments with serious concern. He  _always_  held his liquor like a champ. Hell, he went professional with his drinking years ago. Sloppy is not something he does.

"Yeah, you guys were lucky to have run into those old friends of yours."

"Old friends?" Dean wonders with wide eyes.

"Yeah, the mother and daughter you were drinking with. They helped get you guys back to your motel. I offered to lend a hand, but they said they had it covered so I left and found some good times elsewhere. Couldn't waste a night off, could I!"

"What were their names?" Dean quickly asks, alarm now threatening to claim him.

"Shit, I don't know. I barely got the chance to talk to them. One of them, the daughter, had a guy's name though. Like Joey or something."

"Jo?" Dean loudly asks, his heart pounding in his chest. "Was her name Jo? Short, blond hair?"

"Yeah, I think that's her," Ginger Snap confirms. "They were really sweet, especially her mother. She was a tough broad on the outside but you could tell she cared about what happened to you three."

"Ok," Dean says to no one in particular. What the fuck would Jo and Ellen be doing in Las Vegas, and in the same bar as them coincidentally, and then disappearing the next day? They definitely would have called by now or something, to at the very least check on how everyone was feeling. He looks back up at Ginger Snap. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, I guess," she responds while watching him stand up. "I thought you guys were gonna be gone by today."

"You and me both," he comments quietly before turning to leave in a hurry. Once outside, he scans his surroundings and spots the payphone a few feet away. He walks determinedly towards it, hand already fishing change out of his pocket. From memory, he dials a number he hasn't dialed in a very, very long time.

"Hey," Jo answers on the other line, sounding pleasantly surprised to hear from him.

"Are you and your mother in Las Vegas?" Dean blurts out.

"What?" Jo questions loudly, very obviously taken off guard by the odd question.

"Are you in Vegas?" Dean tries impatiently again.

"No," she answers back. "I'm in Montana. Mom's out east somewhere near Virginia or something."

"So I didn't see you, uh, recently?" he asks, knowing halfway through that the question sounded completely insane.

"Dean, I haven't seen you and Sam in, what, a year I think?" Jo answers back. "What the hell is going on with you?"

Dean sighs with her answer while pressing the receiver of the phone into his forehead with frustration. Fucking great. Now he's pretty sure he knows what they're dealing with and it makes sense the more that he thinks about it.

"A whole lot of confusing shit, as usual," Dean answers back once he returns the phone to his ear. "Sorry for the weird call."

He goes to hang up, but Jo stops him.

"Hey! Are you guys in trouble?" Jo asks, always looking to help if she can.

"Nothing we can't handle," Dean says, unsure of how true his statement is.

"Dean, wait," Joe starts with an annoyed voice.

"Thanks for the concern, Jo."

Dean hangs up, fully aware that he's being rude to her. Bigger fish to fry, right? He then proceeds to drop more coins into the phone and dials Lizzy's number.

* * *

"Winchesters!" the short, middle-aged woman in a nice black suit with skirt nearly shouts when Lizzy and Sam walk through the front doors. "You're back!"

They give each other wide eyed looks before plastering on fake smiles.

"Hi there," Lizzy greets back with hesitation.

"So glad to see you guys again," the woman says to them while shaking their hands. "I have to say, when you left last night you got the whole staff talking. You two were one of the best couples we've had come through in a long time."

"Yeah?" Sam says with a forced grin.

"Absolutely! You were a blast! Your vows were so sweet and I've never seen two people be so at ease while tying the knot in my life."

"You don't say," Lizzy says, grabbing onto Sam's bicep and squeezing hard. She's crawling in her own skin at what they're told.

"Hey, you ever want to renew those vows in the future, and you guys definitely have a long future ahead of you, you know where to find us."

"We'll be sure to keep that in mind." Sam clenches his jaw when he feels Lizzy's nails begin to dig into his arm with her fright.

"You must be here to pick up the pictures and video. Follow me," the unfamiliar woman tells them, walking towards a side room. Sam and Lizzy walk after her, entering the small room with walls covered in wedding photos from ceremonies held in the chapel. "This is our hall of fame… or shame, depending," she explains as she gestures to the walls. "We were hoping to add you two to it, if you wouldn't mind."

"Oh, no," Lizzy begins. "That's so sweet of you, but I don't think that's for us."

"That's a shame, but I understand. Not everyone likes to show off their good fortune, ha," she responds while handing Sam a large manila envelope. "So here's everything you ordered."

"Uh, you mind if we check this out real quick, right now?" Sam asks, pointing to the TV and DVD player in the corner of the room. He's dying to know what's on there and he knows Lizzy is too, and if they look through everything here, Dean won't have to be put through the misery of witnessing any of it once they meet back up with him.

"Be my guests," she responds with a bright smile. He pulls two chairs up to the small television. "Let me know if you need anything at all!"

"We will. Thank you," Lizzy grins out as the woman leaves them alone. "I feel kinda bad that I have no idea what her name is. She's so nice."

"Who cares," Sam comments while sitting down and tearing open the plastic DVD box and pops it in.

Lizzy sits in the chair next to him and watches while her hands shake with nerves. This day has been surreal enough. Having to witness the wedding she doesn't remember at all will certainly make it even worse.

Pachelbel's Cannon starts playing as they see the cheesy, pink and white introduction start. It lists the date and their names in an overly flowery text and is detailed with roses and two interlocked wedding rings.

"God, this is so fucking corny," Lizzy shakes her head with disgust as the intro fades and ceremony begins. "Remind me never to get married in Vegas again."

"Shh," Sam quietly shushes her, wanting to focus on the video.

_Sam is standing next to the justice of the peace at the small, flower covered alter as Lizzy walks toward him. Both are smiling like idiots by the time Lizzy reaches Sam and stands next to him._

_"Dearly beloved," the justice begins, Lizzy and Sam now grinning across from each other while holding hands. Lizzy laughs, clearly tipsy and giddy with excitement. Sam finds the sight infectious and begins chuckling quietly also._

"This shaking anything loose for you at all?" Sam questions as the very foreign ceremony continues on screen.

"No," Lizzy admits, still not remembering any of what she's seeing. "This can't be us, dude."

"Yeah…" Sam brushes off, keeping his eyes trained on the video.

_"I've been informed that the lovely couple has decided to say their own vows," the justice of the peace announces. "Elizabeth." He nods her way to indicate that she was first to go._

_"Sam," she smiles up at him with sheer love in her eyes. "Sam-I-Am." She giggles at the use of his nickname at such an important time. "You're awesome, you know that?"_

Lizzy feels sick with her on screen words. It's an echo of Dean's favorite thing to say to her and it gets used so wrongly.

_"Yup," Sam simply answers with a drunken, goofy smile and they both burst out laughing. The justice and their witness can't help but grin at the scene._

_"Good, because you totally are," Lizzy explains. "I've known you for so long now and every day that I know you, I love you a little bit more. You are a wonderful, smart, sexy, brilliant man and I am so lucky to have had you in my life… my brother from a different mother."_

"Come on!" Lizzy shouts with angered disbelief when she hears her own words from conversations in the past with Sam get repeated. She looks quickly to Sam with a fed up look before watching further.

_"Oh, shit. That sounds kinda wrong in this situation, doesn't it?" Lizzy says loudly and doubles over laughing while holding her stomach. "But it's so true. We've been good friends for years and Sam, you are the best person I fucking know."_

_Sam shares a flattered smile at her words._

Sam sneaks a quick glance Lizzy's way, feeling complimented by her drunken words.

_"You're better than anyone else I've ever met. You're strong, and caring, and you've overcome some odds in life that no one else could ever get through."_

Lizzy crosses her arms across her chest and fights the urge to cry. Whether real or not, it was all true; the things said on the video are real feelings... for the most part. She didn't love him the way she claimed to, but she did love him and care deeply for him. Lizzy always thought the world of Sam, from day one.

_"Now once I pull that stick out of your ass and loosen you up a bit, we're gonna have a wonderful life together! I just know it!" Lizzy giggles, earning her another loud laugh from Sam. "I love you, Sammy."_

"Sammy?" Lizzy scrunches his face and looks over to Sam. "When have I ever called you that before?"

"Once…. I think… maybe…." Sam responds, knowing that that nickname was pretty exclusive to Dean. It did sound weird coming from her.

_"And now Samuel…" the justice of the peace says while gesturing to Sam._

_"Uh, ok," Sam stutters as he looks at Lizzy. "I kinda don't know what to say. You made it look so easy, ha."_

_"Just be honest." Lizzy smiles warmly and places her hand over his heart. "Give it a whirl."_

_"Alright," Sam starts. "There have been a lot of tough times in my life. A lot. And I've lost a lot too. But through it all… you've always just been there, without me needing to ask."_

_Lizzy's smile widens with his words as she looks up to him with total admiration._

_"I honestly don't know how you deal with all the shit that I come with. You must be insane."_

_"Only a little," Lizzy giggles._

_"You're just…" Sam pauses, looking at the floor for some time before lifting his head to look at her, eyes suddenly pooling along his bottom lids. "You're special. Different from every other girl I've ever met. You're the definition of strength and kindness at the same time. To say I am fortunate to have you in my life would be a massive understatement." A tear finally makes its way down Sam's cheek and Lizzy reaches up to wipe it away with the pad of her thumb._

_"Don't cry, Sam-I-Am," Lizzy says, her own voice slightly choked._

_"Sorry," Sam smiles down to her._

While sitting and watching, Lizzy had unknowingly let a tear of her own drop, trailing down her face as she very quickly lifts a hand to wipe it away. It felt wrong to be so moved by the scene when it was in reality a scene of complete betrayal. It doesn't change how she feels about Dean, not in the least, but it does change how she sees Sam. All these things that had been left unsaid between them were just aired and all of it true. She does love him more every damn day, she does think he is better than he'll ever know, and she really does think that he's the best person on the planet for so, so many reasons.

Sam is sitting silently with the very same realization. He knows he's blessed to have her in his life. Hell, he's not sure he'd still be breathing right now if it weren't for her and her never ending support, especially when Dean was in hell. He peers over and notices her wiping away the evidence of how moved she is also. As much as all of this has been a disaster, maybe at least a little good can come out of it.

The ceremony continues and soon it's just about over.

_"By the power vested in by the state of Nevada, I pronounce you man and wife. Now kiss her already, huh?" the justice grins wide._

_Sam and Lizzy kiss as their arm lock around each other. Sam then leans forward to Lizzy's ear, his face hidden from the camera, and Lizzy grins like a school girl with the unheard words. The two then turn to walk back down the aisle to celebrate the rest of their night elsewhere. They stop to share elated smiles into the camera._

"Oh my God!" Lizzy shouts running to the DVD player and pausing the video before swiftly turning to face Sam. "Did you fucking see that!" Her eyes are wide with shock over what they just saw.

"Yeah," Sam says in a much calmer tone while walking over to her. He picks up the remote and frame by frame back tracks on the video to when the two of them looked directly into the camera. Their eyes are lit up with an odd, silver reflection. "Holy Shit."

"Fucking shifters," Lizzy mutters before looking over at Sam. "I can't believe it!"

"I can," Sam quickly says back, already having suggested the creature as their culprit.

"Yeah…" Lizzy trails off. "It's ok if you want to say you told me so."

"I don't, but thanks," Sam quietly responds.

"Why didn't that show up on the video back at the motel?" Lizzy asks, confused.

"Guess night vision doesn't work the same," Sam concludes. "Would have been nice if it did though. Could've saved my brain some seriously damaging imagery."

"I am gonna tear those fuckers apart!" Lizzy shouts, forgetting that she's still in a public, and relatively quiet, place. Sam grabs her shoulders and pushes her down into one of the seats.

"Relax," Sam commands to her. "Lizzy, slow down for a second. Keep it together."

The two sit silently to let it sink in. Lizzy, tapping her foot nervously, looks up with confusion as a smile stretches across Sam's face.

"How are you smiling right now?" Lizzy asks. "A fucking shifter is running around with your mug! Aren't you pissed?"

"Yeah, I am but think about it," Sam asks of her. "None of what happened last night was actually done by us.  _None_  of it. That's why we don't remember it. It was the shifters!"

Her face changes from anger to relief when she really thinks about Sam's words. "So we never…"

"Definitely not!" Sam blurts out, interrupting her and keeping her from actually saying it. "We didn't do any of it! It wasn't us!"

"Ha!" Lizzy cries out in sheer happiness and bolts up from her seat, running and jumping onto Sam. She locks her arms around his neck and shouts her excitement.

"I'm so happy! I didn't fuck you, Sam! We didn't fuck!" She hugs him with pure excitement and utter relief. Thank God, she thinks. If she had cheated on Dean with his own brother, she wasn't sure that she could get past the guilt ever. Now, well, now she's overjoyed that she's still the good and very faithful girlfriend she always intended on being.

Sam hugs her back and lets the alleviation settle in. He no longer feels like the scum of the Earth for the first time all day and the weight on his shoulders lessens greatly.

Lizzy's phone rings from her back pocket and she backs away from Sam. Looking at the screen, she smiles wide as she answers the call, knowing with the Las Vegas area code it was him.

"Sam and I know what we're up against!" Lizzy shouts as her greeting ones she answers his call.

"Fucking shifters," Dean responds, hatred in his voice.

"It wasn't us, Dean!" Lizzy smiles happily. "It never was. The wedding video, our eyes…"

"Good," Dean says, cutting her off while letting his body relax from its tensed position it's held all day. "Really, really good." It was true, set in stone now.

"I know!" Lizzy concurs brightly, huffing sighs of relief.

"And I'm starting to think we were drugged," Dean adds. "Apparently we were all disasters, myself a falling over mess which I never am, and I woke up absolutely dying."

"Us too," Lizzy tells him.

"I puked," Dean admits.

"Yikes, have you ever done that?" Lizzy wonders, knowing him to be better at handling his booze than that.

"Not since high school," he tells her. "Alright, you and Sam meet me back at our motel… ah, not the Dumb and Dumber one."

Lizzy bites her lip to keep the smile from breaking through. She'd be lying if she said that same thought wasn't in her head when she first saw the heart shaped red Jacuzzi in the honeymoon suit.

"We're leaving as soon as we can but you'll probably beat us. We have to catch a cab."

"Ok."

Dean goes to hang up, but he hears her call to him through the receiver. "Hey!"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she tells him. "And I'm still all yours, Hot Shot. No one else's."

"I know," Dean smiles as he hangs up, quickly walking to his car in the parking space with a renewed sense of relief.

* * *

 


	16. Demolition Woman

* * *

Pulling into the motel lot, Dean takes an open spot directly in front of their room. He gets out of the car quickly and takes large steps to the front door, praying that their silver weapons they had packed and kept in the room were still there. With their luck they wouldn't be, but it'd be nice for once if something worked out in their favor.

His heart stops when he sees that the door to their room is cracked open a couple inches. Knowing none of them would be foolish enough to leave it open whenever it was that they were last there, he's alarmed. Can't ever catch a break, can they? Looking out over the lot and surrounding buildings to ensure that no one is there to see him, Dean pulls his gun out from the waist of his jeans and aims it ahead of him cautiously.

Standing to the side of the motel door with his back pressed against the outside wall, he freezes for a moment to listen, hearing random quiet movement inside but no voices. Creeping closer just one more step, he peers in through the nearly closed door but with the limited view he can't see much, just the shadows playing across the far wall cast by whatever is in there. Dean takes a deep breath before kicking open the door with force.

"Don't move!" Dean shouts, gun aimed and ready. The two people in the room turn to face him with a start but, despite the gun aimed their way, relax once they see it's just Dean.

"Dude, put the gun away," Lizzy says exasperatedly while waving a hand in the air. "It's just us."

Dean lowers his gun and sighs in consolation. Sam and Lizzy continue walking around the room, gathering items they left there and packing up the weapons they needed.

"So you cracked the case, huh?" Sam asks over his shoulder while taking out his laptop.

"Yeah," Dean answers as he shuts the door behind him and picks up his weapons packed duffel from the floor. "Apparently we ran into Jo and Ellen last night… yet Jo claims she hasn't seen us in a year. Seemed obvious." He drops the bag onto his bed closest to the door and opens it up, ready to load his gun with silver rounds. "That's pretty smart too, using familiar faces to earn out trust. That's good."

"And sneaky," Sam adds while sitting at the small table and opening his laptop.

"I agree," Lizzy answers. "I'm just glad we figured it all out."

"About damn time too. I was starting to get worried." Dean huffs a quiet laugh while looking up at Lizzy with a grin. She winks and smiles back at him, so relieved to know they were still ok. How could he have ever doubted her?

"Worried about what?" Sam asks, looking at Dean with a confused look.

"Seriously?" Dean questions with surprise. "I thought you two got married. I thought you had… you know what? Doesn't matter. You didn't do anything wrong so it's all good."

Sam and Lizzy stay quiet and watch him search his bag, small smiles threatening to burst into larger once as they do.

"Now all I want is to do tear those fuckers apart," Dean announces as his face winkles in confusion. "Where're the silver bullets we packed? And the knives?" He looks up at the two silent hunters, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, we decided to get rid of those," Lizzy smirks to him, sending Sam a sly grin that he returns her way.

"Why the fuck would you do that?" Dean asks but halfway through his statement the situation starts getting clearer. "And how the fuck did you get back here so much faster than me? Shit!"

Sam laughs and turns his attention back to his laptop while shaking his head, opening the web browser on the computer screen while Lizzy just giggles a familiar sounding giggle as she reaches for one of their packed guns.

"Son of a bitch," Dean lets out when he puts it all together for good and shoves his bag filled with worthless weapons onto the ground in anger.

"There's the hunter we had been expecting," Sam says nonchalantly to the computer as Dean's blood runs cold. Holding his breath, he makes a backward step towards the front door behind him.

"Yeah, don't try to leave," Lizzy tells him lightly, gun now in hand and aimed at him. "I'd rather not shoot you… not yet at least."

Dean looks between the two of them, perfect copies of the people he knows better than his own self, and curses himself for being so stupid. He let his happiness and alleviation of the truth cloud over his need to be guarded now that shifters were after them. He walked right into their trap and now, they had him… of course not without a fight.

"You want me?" Dean challenges, his ire over everything fueling him as he reaches into the bag at his feet and takes up the first knife he finds. "Come and get me, you bitches."

* * *

"Oh shit," Lizzy loudly laments when they pull up to the motel. She and Sam immediately recognize that the door to the room they had rented is wide open and the all too familiar rock of absolute dread they've felt a million times in their lives suddenly returns, sitting heavily in their stomachs. "No."

The second the taxi comes close to a stop, Lizzy is out the door and sprinting to the room as Sam is left to toss a few bills at the driver before joining her. She wasn't about to wait around another second as she knew Dean was supposed to get there before her and by the looks of it, he might be in trouble.

"Dean!" she shouts as she runs through the door frame and comes to a skidding stop in the middle of the room. The entire place is a disheveled mess, making her flare with panic. One of the lamps is shattered on the floor, a chair is overturned, and worst of all Dean's gun is lying on the ground at her feet. She puts her hand over her mouth to keep from shouting, or crying, or throwing up; she isn't sure which. "Oh, shit. No…"

Sam flies through the door seconds later, quickly scanning the damage. "Damn it! Dean!" he yells out while rushing into the bathroom with that slight glimmer of hope that he'd find his brother there. No such luck as the room is completely empty. Sam's shoulders droop as he walks back out to the motel room to see Lizzy standing in the exact same spot but with Dean's Colt now in her hands. He can tell her jaw is clenched tight with the growing anger inside of her. He takes a quick second to let the panic rush over him as his hands comb through his hair in frustration. Instead of lose his cool, Sam begins searching around the room for any clues as to where Dean is. How the fuck did they manage to lose him twice in one day?

"Help me search," Sam calls out while picking through the debris around the room. Lizzy doesn't move and he grows impatient with her. "Lizzy!"

"What?" Lizzy asks, her jaw clamped shut as she continues to stare down at the gun Dean was never without. Her knuckles turn white with her grip on it.

"Come on, move, do something," Sam asks of her. "Standing there pissed isn't going to help find Dean."

Lizzy finally looks up at Sam with fire burning behind her gaze. For the first time in his life, he feels uneasy just looking at her. He stands up and walks over to her and hugs her in tight, a move she always responded well to. However, unlike every other time he's done this, she doesn't react at all. Her hands remain between their bodies, holding the gun in her hands even tighter and never once moving to return the embrace. Sam grows fearful now. She's never been this cold and devoid of all affection before.

"Don't freak out, ok?" Sam tells her, a hand grabbing each of her shoulders and leaning down to peering right into her eyes. "Clearly we need to find Dean. He needs you to stay focused and not lose your shit." He lets her go and backs away, looking at her face as she stares almost blankly back up at him.

"I am focused, Sam. Never been more focused in my life," Lizzy says so calmly it's eerie. "They took him from me once already. They won't get away with this, I'm going to make sure of it."

The chill that travels down Sam's spine at her tone is enough to get him back to searching the room as being near her was a bit scary at the moment.

Lizzy places Dean's gun at her back, sharing the space in the waist of her jeans with her own Glock, and begins searching the room with Sam. After coming up empty handed for a while, Sam finds his laptop under one of the over turned chairs. He opens it up and turns it on as Lizzy lifts the half-off mattress to look under it. Picking the table up, he places his computer on it and once the screen comes on, Sam is greeted with a webpage he has no recollection of visiting.

"Check this out," he says to Lizzy as he rights the knocked over chair and takes a seat. Lizzy joins him, leaning over his shoulder to see.

"Directions?" she asks as together they look at the MapQuest website with a destination already put into it.

"Yeah," Sam answers, eyebrows knitted at the confusing find. "From this motel to a train depot in Rhyolite, a little less than three hours from here.

"Why the  _fuck_  would a couple shifters leave this for us to find?" Lizzy questions. "Is this a game now? Is that what's happening here?"

"Looks like it," Sam answers with sheer letdown. "They've obviously been out to fuck with us this whole time. Why stop now?"

"Alright," she coolly responds, very quickly accepting the situation for what it is. "They want a fucking game, fine. They got themselves a fucking game." She rifles swiftly through the room, gathering any and all weapons she can find.

"Hey," Sam calls to her as she rummages through the disarray all around them but she doesn't respond. He tries again, much louder this time. "Hey!"

"What the fuck do you want, Sam!" Lizzy shouts back to him, finally looking up to him with that fire still burning in her eyes.

"Whatever this is that you're doing, stop," he asks of her. Her behavior is really starting to worry him. "We need to be in our right minds to get him back. Don't go into this the wrong way because you're pissed."

"Pissed?" Lizzy challenges. "You think I'm pissed?"

"Yeah, I do!"

"You're damn right I'm fucking pissed!" Lizzy screams at him. "They took Dean! Again! I've come too God damned close to losing him more times than I can count so far and these assholes have crossed the fucking line with me! So yeah, Sam. I'm pissed. I'm downright fucking angry! I am going to get him back and I am going to make sure those stupid, arrogant pieces of shit pay for what they've done!"

She pauses to catch her breath and wipe the sweat from her brow that has collected with her over heated emotions. Sam doesn't dare move as he knows she isn't done yet and he really doesn't want to make her any more irate than she already is.

"So," Lizzy continues quietly. "I'm gonna gather everything silver I can find around here while you go out and get us a car. Then, we go get him back."

"You know it's a trap," Sam reminds her of the obvious issue.

"No shit," Lizzy responds, already back to scouring the room. "We'll figure it out on the ride. Go get a car."

She doesn't look up at him again. Moving around the room quickly, Sam sits in his seat, too surprised by her reaction to move. Of course Sam is upset, furious even, but over time he's gotten used to handling it as much as he could. Sure, he flew off the handle often enough, but in the most dyer of situations, he kept his head clear. Lizzy, the normally better adjusted one, is doing the opposite. She wants blood and she wants it now and that has taken over her better judgment.

Sam slowly gets up, closing his laptop and packing it into one of their bags. He makes his way out of the motel to go search the streets for a car he can hotwire, preferable one that no one would miss too much.

Once he was gone, Lizzy take the opportunity she sees to lets her ire out. She can't take the malicious world she lives in doing its damnedest to keep Dean and her apart any longer. They can't catch a single break. There's always something there, waiting to ruin their relationship or their lives together in general. She's done with it all, fed up and exhausted from the constant struggle.

Lizzy picks up a chunk of the broken lamp and hurls it with all her strength into one of the red-colored walls with a shout. Ceramic bits fly after it shatters on impact but it wasn't enough to satisfy her. She sends two empty beer bottles into the wall after the lamp before forcefully flipping the table back over and grabbing one of the flimsy wooden chairs. Lifting it over head, she smashes the furniture into the carpeted floor and it breaks into pieces. She then begins stomping on the remaining intact chucks, screaming her anger as she does.

"Why do you keep taking him from me!" she demands to no one in particular. "You can't have him! He's mine!"

Lizzy picks up a large wooden board that was once part of the now demolished chair's backing and, using it like a bat, takes a swing at the one still standing lamps, chunks of pottery and glass sailing through the air.

"He's all I have!" she cries while dropping the board down onto the alarm clock on the nightstand, shattering it. "He's the only good thing in my fucking miserable life!" Lizzy winds up and swings again, this time letting the wooden beam go and flip end over end across the room, stopping when it comes in contact with the mirror in the bathroom. As the glittering, sharp shards tumble onto the tiled floor, Lizzy drops down completely drained onto the carpeted floor, hugging in her knees and letting the angry tears fall.

"Please," she begs to every evil monster in existence. She just can't handle the threat of losing him anymore. She decided a long time ago that won't go on unless it's with him. It's too hard to ever try again. "Just give him back. I can't do this anymore…."

* * *

 


	17. A Couple Horses of a Different Color

* * *

"Fucking… hate… shifters," Dean grumbles through a labored voice as he struggles. It's cramped in the Impala's trunk, half the space being used by the false bottom filled with weapons. He was shocked to realize that the shapeshifters hadn't removed the arsenal hidden back there. Either they were stupid or really arrogant. Maybe it's both, but for now Dean allows himself to find small hope in the situation.

So after what he guesses is about an hour into their mysterious journey, and he guesses because it's too dark to see his watch in the trunk, Dean's doing his best to pry the false bottom up enough to reach inside. It's slow going since all his body weight is resting on top of it. Currently, he has his body as far back in the trunk space as he can go, lying on his side with his back pressed against the backseat. The fingers of his right hand are grasping the edge of the false bottom and pulling upward, just barely lifting it at all. He's been getting nowhere fast for so long now and the building irritation comes to a head.

"God damn it!" he shouts out while punching the underside of the metal trunk.

"Calm down back there!" he hears Sam's voice call out from the cabin of the car.

"Fuck you!" Dean shouts back while shaking out his hand. "Fucking prick."

He needs to be careful. His left hand is already killing him after punching fake-Lizzy in the face a few times before he was forced into the car. Apparently the fighting skills of a person get acquired by a shifter when they take over their identity. Shifter Lizzy is a real son of a bitch.

First the shifter version of Sam and Lizzy shoved him in his own trunk, then they make him listen to country music of all things, and now they got him to punch his beloved car. "I'm sorry, Baby. You know I didn't mean it." He rubs his fingers lightly over the area his fist landed as the guilt hits him.

Alright, new plan, Dean thinks to himself while balling up into a fetal position to reach his boots. Unlacing and removing one, he tries again to pull up the false bottom door just enough. He takes the toe of his boot and shoves it into the opening he's managed, prying it wider the more he pushes the footwear in.

"Who's the smart one now, bitches?" Dean hisses as the sweat pours with his efforts. The desert is warm even in winter and the sun beating on the black color car combined with the lack of ventilation is making the trunk an oven.

Once he's happy with how far his boot is in and how wide it's opening the hatch, Dean relaxes and lays back for a moment, allowing himself to rest.

"Jesus Christ," Dean complains while wiping his face with his shirt.

He reaches out a hand and snakes it downward into the small crevasse to the weapons. He feels around as far as he can, his hand coming in contact with what feels like the pump action riffle of Sam's choice. That won't be helpful at all. Trying again, he feels the box of shells for the rifle, the wooden cross, rosary beads, and finally, a leather sheath. "Oh, please be made of silver. Please be made of silver."

He pulls at the handle of the knife and frees it from the leather case. "Please, please, please be made of silver." After repeating the mantra one last time, he manages to get the knife out of the trunk just in time to feel the car slow down. The road gets bumpier and Dean assumes they are pulling over. He panics. He can't risk them seeing the knife before he wants to use it.

Moving quickly as possible in the highly restricted space, he slides the blade into his back pocket and drops his shirt over it to cover the handle. The engine cuts out and he hears the car doors creak and groan open followed by footsteps. Dean grabs his boot and yanks, pulling with all his might to get the shoe loose before they come back there. The key slides into the trunk lock and he gives one last hard tug, the boot hitting him square in the gut as it comes free.

Before he can do anything about his oddly taken off shoe, the blinding sunlight assaults him when the trunk door is opened.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Lizzy's voice calls to him as he blocks the sun to see her.

"Fucking gorgeous," Dean returns angrily.

"Here," she says as she tosses in a water bottle, the full plastic container hitting him in the eye that has already turned purple with the solid jab he received earlier at the motel.

"Oh, what the hell?" Dean yells to her, a hand coming over his eye.

"Oops," she carelessly responds. "Thought you'd want to rehydrate after being in the desert today… How'd you get back from that so quickly, by the way?"

"I have my secrets," Dean quips back, readying himself for attack.

"What's with the shoe?"

"It's hot as balls in corduroy pants on a summer day in here," Dean explains while sitting up. "I was gonna go barefoot and hope to cool off a bit."

"Odd idea," the shifter-Lizzy comments suspiciously, hands crossed over her chest with narrowed eyes. "That's all you were up to?"

"That and finishing up the sweater I was knitting for you."

"Such a smart ass," she tells him with disdain.

"Well you got the smart part right," Dean smiles and when she looks at him with confusion, he launches. Jumping out of the trunk, he tackles her to the ground immediately. Once he has her pinned to the sandy side of the road, he pulls out the knife he had hidden. Smiling down at her once, he grasps the handle with both hands and plunges it deeply into her chest, right above her heart.

The fake Lizzy shouts out her pain and Dean knows the fake Sam will follow closely behind with her noise. He pulls the blade from her chest and stands up quickly, spying Sam's hulking frame walking quickly towards them from the brush a couple dozen feet away.

"Jaqueline!" he shouts out as he picks up the pace with the sight of Dean standing outside of the car. He makes it over to where the other shifter is lying on the ground, looking horrified to see her bleeding. "Jackie!"

"I'm fine," she brushes off his worry. "It's not silver." Fake Sam's arm reaches down to her and she takes his hand, allowing him to help her up.

"Son of a bitch," Dean complains while tossing the knife onto the ground in utter disappointment. Why would good fortune smile upon him now anyways?

"Took all the silver stuff out of the trunk… we're not morons," Lizzy's voice explains.

"I go and take a leak and this is what happens?" Sam's copy asks of who Dean now knows as Jackie. "Losing your touch, huh?"

"Shut up," she punches him playfully in the arm, grinning up at him the way Lizzy always did to Dean. What the fuck is going on here, Dean wonders.

"You hurt my lady here," Sam-a-like says as he drops and arm around Lizzy… Jackie's shoulders. "I don't appreciate how you've treated her."

"And I don't appreciate how she's treated me," Dean returns, pointing to his eye.

"Oh, that's nothing compared to what you and your friends have done to both of us," Jackie says back acridly. "What you have taken from us… the pain you've caused us…"

"Easy, Jackie," the shifter by her side warns, grip tightening to hold her back. "He'll get his."

"What the fuck are you two talking about!" Dean shouts into the open desert air. "What is this all about? Are you really this pissed because we offed your little buddy a few days ago?"

"Son," Jackie corrects in Lizzy's stern voice.

"What!" Dean asks, complete disbelief at what she says.

"The shapeshifter you killed was our son," Sam's voice explains. "And we just want to repay the favor and then some."

"Wait, since when do shapeshifters have kids?" Dean questions with incredulity. It goes against everything he's learning his whole hunting life about these creatures.

"Where did you think we came from?" Jackie asks surprised.

"Pissed off human, learns how to morph over time…"

"That's just legend," not-Sam answers. "We have kids just like you humans do."

"Then how come I've never met a shifter family until now?" Dean wonders, knowing his timing is inappropriate but he just couldn't help himself. He wanted to know.

"Not everyone is as lucky as we are," Jackie explains, looking up at the shifter besides her with absolute adoration. "Most of us are loners, born of a single parent. We eventually go off on our own, having our own agendas and never really finding another…"

"That understands us completely," Sam's voice finishes, once again much like Lizzy always did to Dean. "We were fortunate to find each other, one and a million chance really."

"Like it was meant to be," Jackie adds on.

"Uh, God," Dean complains, not wanting to hear any more soppy love bullshit from what looks like his brother and Lizzy. "I get it, ok? Could you stop with the touchy feely crap before I puke?"

"Funny, those words coming from you," Jacqueline challenges while glaring at Dean. "I have Lizzy's thoughts, her feelings, her knowledge, and best of all, her memory. So who are you to talk?"

"Hey, I love Lizzy, but I am no walking, talking chick-flick, alright? We do things our way."

"What a liar," Lizzy-a-like tells him as she closes her eyes and she concentrates, clearly sapping more information from the person she is copying. Once she opens her eyes and looks back at Dean, she shares a slick smile. "You, my dear, are as cornball as they come."

"What!" Dean shouts, his image about to be stomped on when he thinks he doesn't deserve it.

"I'm sorry, but I very vividly remember you taking me, I mean Lizzy of course, to watch a sunset complete with picnic dinner after a hunt a few weeks ago."

"We had sex on a blanket while the sun set, wasted on whiskey after eating takeout… that's a little different." Dean feels a little pride in the moment, the two of them always finding their own way of doing things. They were not lame. No way.

"You say tomato," Jackie returns. "How about the notes you leave her every time you hit the road and leave her behind?"

"Who wouldn't do that?" Dean defends, hands on his hips while he grows frustrated with her knowledge.

"Since when does the I in Lizzy get dotted with a heart?" Jackie watches as the red color sweeps over Dean face and he doesn't respond. "How about that cute little pillow fight a few months back. That was just adorable."

"Hey, she started that," Dean excuses in a too tough voice. "What was I supposed to do, let her get away with that crap? I don't think so."

"How about the flowers you sent her from the road for no reason besides you missed her?"

Silence.

"Yeah, I did do that," Dean eventually answers softly, looking at the sand beneath his feet. "Got me some crazy sex when I saw her next though, so… totally worth it."

"You've also talked about marriage and, more importantly, having kids with her. What they'd be like and look like," Jackie angrily spits back at him. There's a quiet moment between them as Dean has nothing to say back. It was true. "You want a future with her. You love her with everything in you. Don't you?"

Dean simply nods as he begins understanding where the shifter is coming from.

"Don't you!" Jackie shouts, wanting to hear an answer.

"Yes." Dean admits it sadly as he suddenly finds himself torn between wanting to kill the shifters for what they've done and sympathizing with them for what he's done.

"You think you love her now? Buddy, just wait," Edwin adds. "You ever have a child with her, you'll truly understand what love really is. You'll never love anything as much as your own kid or the person who gave him to you… and that is what you took from us."

Dean can see the tears threatening Sam's hazel eyes at the comment. These two were grieving, and rightfully so.

"Edwin, just let me kill him, please," Jackie begs quietly of her companion while seeing the pain in his face.

"No. Not just yet," Edwin says, bringing a hand to her chin and lifting her face to kiss her gently. Dean shifts uncomfortably on his feet with the view. To him, they still looked exactly like his brother and girl. Awkward. They part lips quickly, thankfully.

"Fine," Jackie grumbles before looking at Dean. "Get back in the car."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean complains, not wanting a repeat fight like the mess they had back at the motel. He was out numbered, dehydrated, and exhausted. Better save his energy now for whatever is to come later. "Backseat?"

"Nice try," Edwin responds, pointing to the open trunk space.

Dean grumbles as he climbs voluntarily back into the trunk and grabs the water bottle. Edwin immediately walks over and swipes the bottle from him, replacing the refreshing relief with a forceful blow to the cheek.

"Guess you shouldn't have stabbed my wife, huh?" Edwin says with disdain while slamming the trunk shut.

Now Dean is left alone with his thoughts and throbbing face to stew in the conversation that he'd just had. These monsters were different than most. They had actual feelings, and not just murderous, greedy, and instinct-only driven ones either. He now wonders how many other creatures he and Sam have killed that were just like this, just like Lenore and her nest. How many had a real, caring heart and working conscience?

This really put a wrench in his world view and his current predicament.

* * *

"Hey, found a car…" Sam starts but halts mid-sentence in the doorway when he takes in the shape of the room. It's worse than before. Anything that hadn't been destroyed when he left is now in shambles. Sam was worried about her before, but now he's scared. She's gone beyond anything he's seen from her and he doesn't know what to do about it. Usually she keeps them in line. He's never had to keep her in check, not once.

Spying Lizzy in the corner, he sees she's hunched over her duffle, zipping it up quickly and standing back up. She turns to face Sam, beat red and puffy eyes meeting his quickly, before walking towards him with her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Found the silver weapons ditched in the trashcan outside. Stupid shifters," she simply and quickly says as she tries to walk past him. "Let's go."

"Hey," Sam calls out, grabbing her by the shoulders and holding her in place. "You're not ok."

"You're right, I'm not," Lizzy calmly says, the flat tone she uses making Sam nervous. "But I will be once I get my hands on those bastards. Now, let's get the hell outta here."

Lizzy shrugs out of Sam's grip and pushes past him. She leaves Sam standing in the doorway confused. What the hell does he have to do to get through to her? She needs to calm down before heading into this with guns blazing and anger raging. She's going to get herself or all of them killed. Sam watches as Lizzy opens the running Chevy station wagon passenger door and calls out to her.

"You should call Cas," Sam suggests, knowing she had more of a chance of getting through to the angel than he did. Cas sure did have a thing for Lizzy and Dean, mostly Dean but they were a package deal honestly. The angel really seemed to understand that. "He can help."

"No," Lizzy brushes off, turning back to look at Sam over the roof of the car. "These bitches are all mine." With that, she ducks into the car and slams the door shut. Seconds later Sam watches as the hula girl figurine that has been on the dash flies through the open driver's side window.

He sighs heavily and thanks whoever for making their destination over two hours away. It'll hopefully give him time to get Lizzy to come back to her senses and maybe get her to call for Cas. He'll do it if he has to, but Lizzy's prayers were a guarantee. They could use the angel's assistance right now.

* * *

 


	18. Looking Good and Making Bank

* * *

Edwin shoves Dean in the back, sending him stumbling through the front doorway of the small, now deserted mom and pop store in the middle of the desert.

"Easy," Dean says with annoyance once he catches his balance. "Jesus, I was walking in here anyways. No need for unpleasantries." He fixes his hair and adjusts his shirt exaggeratedly to help make his point.

"Is that even a word?" Jackie asks in Lizzy's voice.

"I'm pretty sure it is," Dean says with a wrinkled face, her comment making him think twice.

"It's not," Sam's voice informs.

"Just like the real thing," Dean mutters under his breath after hearing Edwin correct him much like Sam usually does.

"What was that?" Edwin questions, having just heard Dean's patronizing tone but not what he actually said.

"Nothing." Dean sighs and jumps up to sit on the counter.

"How long do you think we have?" Jackie asks Edwin while hoisting up a heavy bag over her shoulder.

"Probably an hour if we're lucky," he responds while walking to her. Edwin peers into the black gym bag she's holding. "You have everything?"

"I should," Jackie responds with an excited grin. "You good to watch him while I go set this stuff up?"

"Yeah, I've got this," Edwin assures her, glancing over at Dean with an unimpressed look. "You let me know if you need help."

"I'm fine, worrywart." Jackie runs a hand lovingly down Edwin's face and then heads out of the store, leaving Dean alone with his brother's copy. And uneasy silence forms between the two and it makes Dean highly uncomfortable.

"So you're on babysitting duty first, huh?" Dean asks, just simply trying to cut the tension. It backfires completely. "Kinda let her get what she wants pretty easily, don't ya' think?"

"Shut your wise ass mouth up," Edwin tells him in Sam's tone while pulling his handgun out from its tucked away place in the back of his pants. He doesn't aim it at Dean, just holds it in his hand while his arm is dropped by his side, letting its presence alone do the talking. Tapping the barrel against the outside of his thigh while glaring at Dean, the hunter sees he'd better listen.

"Ten-four," Dean simply returns, folding his hands in his lap and sitting quietly. These two mean business and without backup, which he's more than certain is on the way, he keeps to himself and avoids Sam-a-like's death stare. Being on the receiving end of it, he's now glad that most of the time he and Sam are on the same team.

* * *

"Rhyolite's a ghost town," Lizzy quietly and flatly announces with Sam's laptop in her lap. "Abandoned in the beginning of the century."

"Ok," Sam says, eyes trained on the lonely desert highway as he breaks all speed limits. They've been driving for an hour and a half, their destination approaching quickly. "Any idea why they'd go there?"

"Secluded, away from civilization," Lizzy assumes. "Easy way to do whatever the fuck they want without the worry of getting caught."

"With lots of places to hide probably," Sam adds.

"Unless we're ready," Lizzy explains, pulling up a map of the still existing structures in the town and beginning to study them closely. "As long as we're familiar with the layout, we'll be prepared."

"Lizzy, I really think you should call Cas," Sam tries again. He's given her the whole ride to cool off a bit and get her head on straight. He tries again with high hopes that she won't be a stubborn fool concerning Dean's life.

"No," Lizzy quickly responds.

"Yes," Sam rebuts. "If you don't, I will."

"Not calling for him, Sam."

"Then I need one good reason why not," Sam asks of her with grievance. "And not because you want to deal with the shifters on your own. That's not good enough."

"Because he's busy," Lizzy explains, still studying away at the map of the small frontier town.

"Busy?" Sam questions with suspicion.

"Yup. He doesn't have time for us, not right now."

"And how the hell would you know that?" Sam wants to know, thinking she's just making excuses for not wanting to involve the angel.

Lizzy looks up from the computer and turns to look at Sam with utter confusion in her expression. "Ah… huh, you know what? I'm not sure."

"What do you mean you're not sure?"

"I mean I'm not sure why I would know that Cas is busy," Lizzy tells him. "But I do. I think he's in battle or something."

"What are you talking about!" Sam shouts. "Did you talk to him before we left? Or call for him and he didn't respond or something?"

"Nope," Lizzy answers thoughtfully and much more calmly than she should. "Never thought to do it because I knew he wouldn't answer. He's fighting." Lizzy sits for a second as the realization of what she tells Sam starts settling in. She whips her head around to look at him. "That's really weird, right?"

"That's  _very_  weird," Sam tells her with a loud sigh. "This ever happen before?"

"No. Well, maybe," Lizzy tries to explain as she thinks over the question. "When Laraje hijacked me and Cas was about to pop in to help, I knew he was coming even though I was tucked away in a little corner of my own mind."

"You could feel it you mean?" Sam pries, trying to get as much from her as possible in the face of this new development.

"Yeah, like a minute or two before he showed up I just knew he was on the way. Though with the craziness that followed right after that, I never really thought twice about the whole thing."

"Until right now?"

"Pretty much," Lizzy admits. "Uh, and I might have known right before he showed up at my apartment a few days before that too." She's still relaxed, even with the new revelation. For some reason, it doesn't scare or bother her in the least.

"What, you let that one slip your mind too?" Sam asks, highly agitated with her lack of concern.

"Well, he kinda dropped in when I was a little busy… with your brother…"

"Yeah, I get the picture," Sam cuts her off.

"At the time I thought it was weird that Cas popped into my head while I was, um, as preoccupied as I was," she tells him. "I completely forgot it about since right after I thought of him I was caught in the act. Kind of a shocking moment for me since before then I'd never seen Cas appear out of thin air like that."

"What about other angels?" Sam asks. "You sense any of them?"

"Don't think so," Lizzy answer. "But I don't really know many other angels. Just Anna and Uriel. And I've only dealt with them once each. They've never shown up since so how would I know, really."

"Jesus Christ," Sam complains. "So what, you're like an angel-only psychic?"

"I don't think I'm psychic," Lizzy tells him matter-of-factly.

"Sounds psychic to me," Sam tells her. "And I would know."

"Shit. It does sound like that, doesn't it," Lizzy bemoans. "That kinda sucks."

They both sit quietly for a second, not sure what to say or even think.

"Well, let's see if this thing has its advantages, shall we?" she wonders aloud before closing her eyes, knowing that even if Castiel was currently mid fight, she needed to make the call for Dean's sake. "Alright Castiel, I know your busy but if you could pop in here for a second, I'd really appreciate it."

Nothing. Just as she had expected. But somehow she knew she had his attention so she tries again.

"Dude, I know you can hear me right now. We don't need much of your time." Still nothing. "And oh, did I mention you little butt-buddy Dean might be in some serious trouble?"

Sam waits silently and after a couple seconds Lizzy huffs a quiet smile and looks over to him.

"In coming," she warns right before they hear the loud flutter of wings.

"I am very busy at moment," Castiel informs them as he suddenly sits in the back seat. "What is a butt-buddy?"

"To you, it's Dean, and he's been taken by some shifters," Lizzy tells him in a very business-like tone while turning sideways in her seat to look at him. She sees the gash across his cheek along with the way he holds his arm into his body in pain and grows concerned. "Oh my God! Cas, are you alright?" She instinctually reaches out to him but he holds a hand out to stop her.

"I'm in the middle of… something," he explains. "I can't be here for very long."

"Then thank you for coming," Lizzy adds. "We need to know whatever we can to get Dean back."

Castiel disappears without warning.

"Thanks for nothing," Sam mumbles.

"He's canvassing," Lizzy explains as she knows where he went. "Give him a couple seconds."

The angel reappears in the backseat before Lizzy can finish her sentence.

"See," Lizzy nonchalantly says, grin in place as she looks at Sam's concern addled face.

"He was taken to Rhyolite," Castiel informs them, already having used his angel GPS to locate him.

"That's all we've been able to figure out so far," Sam tells him.

"Dean's locked in an old abandoned store there, two shapeshifters are with him."

"They aren't at the train depot?" Sam asks with surprise.

"No they are not. It appears they want to you think they are at the depot. The car is in front of it to lead you there. I believe it to be a trap."

"Yeah, we figured as much," Sam sadly says. "Anything else you can tell us that'll help before you go?"

"Be very careful," the angel warns. "They are smart ones. They have a plan in place for you both _. Don't_  go into the train depot."

"Thank you," Lizzy genuinely says to the angel with a small smile. "And, um, I need to talk to you about something important, Cas. When you have the time, of course."

Castiel gives her an understanding and almost sad half-smile with what she requests. He knows what she wants to discuss already, it was only matter of time. "Absolutely. I will come back when I can. You have my word."

"Thanks. Later Cas," Lizzy says just as Castiel disappears. Sam wrinkles his brow at Lizzy and she shrugs her shoulders in return. "I knew he was about to jump ship."

"Shit, Lizzy," Sam says with concern for her. "This knowing what Cas is up to thing could be a serious issue here."

"Throw it onto the fucking pile then," Lizzy says lightly while looking back to the computer screen.

"I'm being serious here," Sam tells her, worried about the possible meaning to all this.

"And so am I," Lizzy truthfully responds. "But we need to focus on one thing at a time. Let's just get Dean back, tear some shifters a pair of new assholes,  _then_ we can deal with the angel radar thing."

"Why are you so calm about this?" Sam questions, not understanding how this could be so ok for her. He was a mess when he found out about his abilities, so why isn't she?

"Probably because my priority is Dean right now. I need to get him back and until then nothing else matters," she says, looking once more over to Sam with the same determined look she had before they left. "I'm not losing him, Sam." She looks back down at the screen in her lap. "Not again."

* * *

"So I have to ask," Dean loudly prods while still sitting on the counter top. Jackie was back with them and, knowing he's pushing his luck pretty hard, he lets his curiosity fly. They were a rare breed of nasty and he wanted to understand them more. "What's your poison of choice?"

"What do you mean?" Jackie questions, face wrinkled.

"I mean what's your vice?" Dean asks. "Every shifter has one and I know it's not murder for either of you because I'd be dead by now. Though I have to say, nice job raising little Ted Bundy. I nominate you two as parents of the year."

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Edwin darkly wonders while looking up over his newspaper from his chair with the way Dean speaks of his son as he glares with pure hatred at the hunter. "Our son had an unfortunate taste for the more… macabre. That's true. And we did everything we could to stop it. We saw it coming from a very early age but our kind… sadly, we really can't change who we are right from birth."

"Once that motivation sets in, it stays," Jackie adds. "Unfortunately, Jason had a deep need for blood."

"But you two don't?" Dean pries.

"No," Jackie answers him honestly. "Edwin is a greedy bastard. Loves his money and the more he has, the happier he is."

"And I love Las Vegas, so thanks for heading this way," he says with Sam's smile as he directs his attention back to the periodical. "I've managed to become quite successful at casinos over time. Made a killing last night at the blackjack table… or rather your brother did."

"He's so smart," she says, looking to him with a proud grin. "Card counting came quite naturally to him."

"Shiesty, I like it," Dean comments, respecting the way the shifter makes a living. "You gotta teach me how to do that. Sounds way better than hustling pool."

"Less chance of getting your ass whooped too," Jackie comments.

"If you're good at it, that's true," Edwin warns from behind the newspaper. "But if you suck at being cautious, those backroom Vegas beat downs aren't necessarily a rumor."

"Ouch. Good to know," Dean comments before looking over to Jackie. "And what about you, sweetheart?"

"I like to look good," she very simply answers. "And young."

"Look good?" Dean asks, highly surprised. "You mean like, just straight vanity?"

"Absolutely," Jackie admits. "I have a certain look I work hard to maintain and I'll do whatever it takes be beautiful, including only taking on the form of young women who are usually in their early to mid-twenties and take care of themselves. Oh, and they have to have a natural beauty. No fake tits or anything like that. I hate that."

"Not a bad vice," Dean admits. Always looking good and being young sounded like a good deal to him.

"I enjoy it," she says while absentmindedly playing with her hair, fixing it to look better. "And I hope you appreciate what you've got here, Dean. This one is one fine specimen." Jackie motions to her own body which looks exactly like Lizzy's.

"Trust me, I do," Dean responds emphatically. It  _is_  his own personal playground.

"Oh, I know," Jackie responds, dragging Lizzy's eyes over Dean's form with a sudden carnal motivation. "Honey?"

"Yeah?" Edwin asks from his chair, looking up from the newspaper he's reading. Jackie never stops eyeing Dean.

"After we're done, can you take his identity for a little while? I want to have some fun with him." The evil grin on Lizzy's face unnerves him for the first time. Usually when she looked at him like that he gets ready to have some serious fun. Right now, he's crawling in his skin.

"Yeah, sure," Edwin brushes off, looking right back down and returning to the news of the day. Clearly he's had these kinds of requests before.

"Mmm. Perfect," Jackie responds, finally tearing her gaze away from Dean and walking over to sit on Edwin's lap. Once sitting atop him, Edwin brings his arms around her and holds the paper out for both of them to see. She moves in close for a quick kiss and Edwin happily presses his lips to hers. Dean lets out a sound of complaint.

"Can't you two shed into some other people… people I don't know or something?"

"Where's the fun in that," Edwin laughs. "Plus, it's not like these two people we look like haven't kissed before. It's nothing new to them."

Dean stiffens his posture at the offhanded comment. Lizzy and Sam? Nah, he knows that would never happen.

"Aw, look at him," Jackie coos with an evil snarl, eyes bright with the added torture for Dean. "He didn't know. Ah, that face is priceless."

"Wow," Edwin shakes his head. "Guess you underestimated how close they became when you were in the pit."

"Shut up," Dean sternly yet quietly responds as his brain mulls over the information. What the fuck happened when he was in hell? Would they do that to him? Would they  _keep_  that from him?

"Or before that even," Jackie adds, nudging Edwin with her elbow.

"Shut up!" Dean strongly demands again as he glares at them across the room with rage in his eyes and balled up fists in his lap.

The two shifters just stare at him with grins for a moment, taking in his misery as a small triumph. Jackie's eye light up briefly before she takes the newspaper from Edwin's hands. Tossing the periodical on the floor, she straddles her man and quite aggressively begins making out with him. This is where Dean draws the line.

"Alright you sick fucks," he says, standing up and walking to the door. "I'm done with this."

"The hell you are," Sam's voice booms out as he pulls his gun out once more, cocking it, and, this time, aiming straight at Dean. "You touch that door and it'll be the last thing you ever do."

Dean freezes and sighs. Fucked. He's completely fucked.

"Fine," he responds, turning back to head to his previous seat. "But the longer we hang out here, the more screwed you two are. As much as you protect your family, it's the same with mine. We don't fuck around when we've been messed with, I promise you that."

"We're banking on it," Jackie tells him while turning to face away from Edwin once more.

"Banking on it?" Dean questions.

"Sure are," Edwin adds. "We're ready for them."

"So this is a trap… of course," Dean mumbles unenthusiastically.

"Let's just say that when they head into the train station to go get you, it'll be big," Edwin smiles. "And explosive."

"And you actually think that'll work on them? They're the two best hunters there are now that I'm out of commission. Oh Eddy, you're gonna regret this one."

"We'll see," Jackie smirks, an unnerving look on her face.

Dean sits and waits while silently praying that he's right and his family will figure it out.

* * *

 


	19. Here Comes the Showdown

* * *

"I think we should stop and ditch the car soon," Lizzy suggests from the driver's seat as they get closer to their destination. "About a half mile out maybe."

"Yeah, this car  _is_  loud," Sam comments, agreeing with her thoughts. Figures he'd pick the one car that needed a new muffler terribly. "We can go undetected for longer on foot."

"That's what I was thinking."

Sam grows quiet for the last few miles as he does his best to commit the map on his laptop to memory now that Lizzy took over driving duty. They have to be ready for whatever comes their way and knowing the layout of the ghost town forward and back would be a good start.

"Turn right here," Sam directs while pointing out the windshield at the unmarked road coming up quickly. Lizzy does as Sam asks. "Alright, go about a mile and we should be good."

"So once we get there, what's our plan?" Lizzy questions as they didn't have an attack set.

"Looks like the first still-partially-standing building we'll find will be right at the end of the road. I think if we use that one for cover first, we can make our way in by staying behind a sting of half-fallen structures. Should get us close enough to the Mercantile where Dean is. I figure we can scope out the place first and then…"

"…we fuck those bitches up," Lizzy finishes incorrectly with the first hint of happiness she's had since yesterday. She's more than ready to take out these shapeshifting assholes that went after her Dean.  _Nobody_  fucks with her Dean.

"No," Sam warns. "We play it smart and we go in with a plan." Sam heavily sighs. "You seriously need to calm down."

"I  _am_ calm," she tells him in her most even voice.

"No you're not!" Sam shouts back, getting more and more upset with her denial.

"Calmer than you are," Lizzy smiles over at him after his outburst.

"Not funny," Sam responds, the quote she uses not being appreciated and instead making him even more annoyed. "You go in there too fast and fuck this up, it could be Dean's life."

"I would never get him killed, Sam. I know what I'm doing," Lizzy rebuts. "Sometimes I feel like the almighty Winchester brothers forget that I was a hunter for a long time before I met them. I'm perfectly capable."

"Unless you're judgment is perfectly clouded!" Sam challenges. "Relax, Lizzy! I need you  _with_  me. We have to work  _together_  on this."

"And we are."

"I hope so," Sam complains, his sights back on the screen. "Just please don't be stupid. Besides Dean… you're all I got left. Need you both to not come out of this dead." Why it was so easy to say that, he isn't sure. Maybe it has something to do with everything they've been through together that day, or maybe it was the shifters speaking his and Lizzy's minds on that wedding video, but the words just come out freely.

Staring out the windshield, Lizzy considers what Sam says. She tends to forget sometimes that Sam still needed her too. It was obvious Dean needed her, but Sam finds comfort and strength in her also.

"Fine," Lizzy says only to assuage him. "We'll take it easy, make a plan once we get there and look around."

"I mean it," he sternly warns.

"So do I," she says, earning a still suspicious look from Sam as she pulls the car to the side of the road a little over a mile down. "I'm not getting myself killed, Sam-I-Am. I'm the smart one in this group, remember?"

Sam only shakes his head with her joke as they both get out of the car. Standing tall, he looks ahead and can just make out the tops of a few structures in the distance.

Lizzy leans into the open trunk of the station wagon, pulling together their weapons. She comes across Dean's Colt and she makes a snap decision. She thinks it best to leave it in the car. Bringing his favorite weapon just doesn't feel right. She loved her Glock first and foremost. It was an extension of her own self and his old ass, antique piece is nice and all, if not a little girly with the ivory handles and flowery engravings, but it doesn't compare. Also, if she lost Dean's gun, he'd be so pissed… and then she'd be guilty as all hell. So she decides it best to leave it there. Better be safe than sorry. It's a common hunter's motto after all.

"Heads up," Lizzy announces to Sam as she stands tall to look at him over the roof top of the car. He turns just in time to catch the large silver knife in sheath that is tumbling through the air towards him. He slips it into a belt loop before another, smaller folding knife, also made of silver, flies his way. This one goes into his boot. "Anything else?"

"Extra clip?" Sam requests and Lizzy ducks under the opened trunk again before surfacing and throwing him what he asks for. "Thanks."

Lizzy then checks over her own arsenal. Her beloved brass knuckles are in place, one per hand. She also had her favorite, Ka-bar style silver hunting knife on her right hip and a smaller silver knife per boot along with her Glock and extra clip of silver bullets.

"You ready?" Sam hesitantly asks, afraid that she's still riding her wave of extreme anger.

"I'm ready, Sam-I-Am," Lizzy tells him, as calmly as she can muster. She knows she has to tone down her ire to make Sam trust her in the situation so she does what she can to seem level headed, though inside she wants nothing more than to torture, maim, and very slowly kill the monsters that took Dean. Her fire never dies down, she just finds a way to hide it.

"Let's get going," Sam says, turning toward the road and beginning the walk into the town, Lizzy right behind him.

* * *

"I think that's it," Sam says to Lizzy while ducking behind one of the only fully standing building's they've come across. "About two hundred feet."

"Yeah, I see it," Lizzy tells him, her gun held firmly in both hands as they peer around the white stone corner at the dilapidated wooden store. "Thing's seen better days, huh?"

"Check it out," Sam nods in the distance and they both see the Impala parked directly in front of the train depot's door.

"Ha, morons," Lizzy comments with the shifters' attempts to fool them. "Could they be any more obvious?"

"We're gonna have to move in behind the brush if we plan on staying out of sight," Sam explains, staying on task. "Follow me."

Before Lizzy could protest, Sam was moving. He didn't want to give her the time to rebut his plan and take over. She's still worrying him and he's been keeping a keen eye on her as well as their surroundings on their journey by foot in. He runs while crouching low, his height a real disadvantage in the moment, while Lizzy never falls more than a few quick strides behind him.

It doesn't take long for them to reach the side wall of the shop. With their backs pressed against the wooden exterior, they listen closely for any sign of life inside. Lizzy's eyes widen when she hears her own impatient tone of voice muffled by the building, followed by Sam's. They were both in there and now Lizzy and Sam both knew it.

Sam helplessly watches as Lizzy turns suddenly and takes off. Having seen it coming, he reaches out to grab her arm to stop her, but it was no use. She was already running at full speed to the front door.

"Lizzy!" Sam sternly whispers taking a few steps towards her but he knows she's already as good as inside. She disappears from sight.

* * *

Rushing through the front door, Lizzy has not a single coherent thought besides the one that's been on a constant loop in her head; save Dean.

The door flies open, hitting the wall behind it with force, and Lizzy stomps through the door, gun trained ahead and temper on full blown high.

The second he sees her, Dean jumps down from his seat and panics. Why would she just run in blind like this? He begins searching the room, needing to find the right opportunity to make himself useful.

Lizzy's abrupt entrance catches the shapeshifters completely off guard. They stand quickly, Jackie scrambling off of Edwin's lap to reach for her gun at her waist. Unfortunately for her, Lizzy's gun is already out and ready. It takes no more than a few second for her to take the shot.

The loud boom shakes the old, weathered room and instantly Jackie's lifeless body hits the floor. Out of the two, Lou had always been the better shot, but that wasn't to say Lizzy was a terrible one. She worked hard to get better over time, especially once Lou was no longer there to back her up. Her shot hit its target with ease.

"Jackie!" the horrified bellow spills out of him as Edwin's wide eyes look down at the now dead shifter at his feet. Without hesitation, both Edwin and Dean are in motion.

Dean dives onto the floor to retrieve Jackie's dropped handgun, hoping to give himself more leverage with a weapon. By the time he stands back up, Lizzy is already fighting off Edwin as best she can. Dean takes aim but cannot find a clear, safe shot. He'd be risking her life if he went for it.

The size difference has Lizzy at a severe disadvantage, but she's prepared. This is hand to hand stuff. This is her arena. Landing the first punch, her fist breaks the skin over Edwin's cheek, a small trickle of blood dripping down towards his jaw. He pays no attention to his injury as he continues to attack, the fire within him growing by the second. His next two attempts are blocked, but the third time is a charm when Edwin's fist finds it mark, striking Lizzy hard in the temple. She's dazed for only a split second but that was all Edwin needed.

* * *

A single, booming gunshot echoes off the surrounding hills. Sam's heart skips a beat as he stands outside the building and without thinking he's bolting for the front door as he hears the commotion inside. Leaping up the few stairs to the front door, he stands in the doorway with his gun aimed into the building.

"Let her go!" Sam loudly demands when he sees a perfect copy of himself standing behind Lizzy with an arm hooked strongly around her neck. Her gun is on the floor at her feet and the other shapeshifter that had taken on her form is lying motionless on the floor with a single bullet hole in its chest.

"Drop you're guns!" Edwin shouts back, the fury clear in his voice as he demands that the two hunters let go of their weapons.

"Fuck you. Let go of her," Dean returns, only fueling the shifter's already roaring fire.

"Both of you!" Edwin yells louder, aiming his gun back and forth between the brothers. "Now! Or she dies!"

"Alright," Sam returns as calmly as possible, holding his hands out to show his surrender once he's recognized that they'd better take it easy. "I'm putting it down right now." He slowly crouches down to the ground and lays his weapon onto the dusty floor. Standing back up, he looks over to his brother to find he hasn't done the same. He still has the gun aimed squarely at the shifter. "Dean, come on."

"No," he sternly refuses.

"You'll drop it if you know what's good for her!" Edwin shakily warns while turning the gun on Lizzy.

"Dean!" Sam tries again, shouting his impatience for Dean's need for a showdown right now.

"Fine," Dean agrees through clenched teeth, begrudgingly leaning forward and letting go of the handgun he'd just picked up.

"The knife!" the shifter shouts out when he spies the sheath at Sam's hip. Sam dutifully removes the weapon and lays it next to his gun on the floor.

"No," the Sam-a-like cries, tears pooling in his eyes now that he has the three humans weaponless. "No. Jacqueline…"

Sam looks to Lizzy with a questioning look, Lizzy returning with an expression that tells him she doesn't understand any more than he does. Shifters were loners so why was this one so damn upset?

"This is not how this was supposed to go!" the shifter shouts, his grip around Lizzy's neck tightening and her hands instinctually coming up to grasp his forearm and try to pull free but the creature was a strong one. "You killed her. First you took Jason, now her."

"Jason?" Sam quietly asks with sheer confusion.

"You killed my family!" the shift shouts as his tears fall. He presses the barrel of his gun hard into Lizzy's temple.

"Whoa, ok," Dean breaks in with the direct threat to Lizzy's life. He holds his hands up in surrender and takes a very cautious step forward. His fury gives way to fright in the moment and it makes him look at things clearer. "Edwin, think here for a minute."

"Just take it easy," Sam evenly adds.

"Fuck you!" the shifter shouts back as tears crest over and fall. He turns the gun on Dean and makes him pause mid step. "Just stay where you are! I don't need another reason to kill you all!"

The air in the room grows thick with the threat as the shifter mulls the situation over. Sam watches as his twin keeps going back and forth between being about to crumble with sorrow and explode from fury. Finally, after his ping pong of emotions settles on one state, he re-aims the gun against Lizzy's head.

"You know," the shifter looks to Sam. "Being you right now has its advantages. I know exactly how much you're worried about her. You love this one… maybe too much for your own good."

"She's like family to me," Sam admits, knowing the creature had access to his thoughts and knowledge. He's just hoping to appeal to the monster anyway he can in the heated moment.

"And she  _was_  my family!" the shapeshifter shouts back, looking down at the body of the person he clearly cared very much about. "I should take her from you… from you both."

"No!" Sam shouts out at the same time as Dean yells.

"Don't! Edwin, don't do this. Please…"

"You need to understand!" Edwin screams, Lizzy's jaw clenched and eyes closed as she feels a jolt of sheer fright as the barrel of the gun presses hard to the side of her head once more. "You need to know my loss. You need to feel my pain…" His voice goes from pure malice to utter sorrow as it trails off. A new set of tears fall as Edwin loses what little composure he had left.

"That won't change anything," Dean tells him.

"Yes it will! You'd know what it's like to have to see the love of your life die right in front of you! You're little princess here," he starts, this time shoving the barrel of the gun against Lizzy's cheek as he does, "Killed her. She took the best thing that ever happened to me and destroyed it!"

"She didn't know," Dean tries to explain. "She had no idea."

"What does that matter now?" Edwin threats as he looks down at her scared face. "Eye for an eye, Dean. That's how this is going to work."

"Edwin, no," Dean begs, not wanting to kill the emotionally wounded creature in front of him while he fears that that might be exactly where this situation is headed.

"A lover for a lover, right? And a brother for a son."

A small silver knife suddenly stabs into Edwin's forearm that's around Lizzy's neck after sailing through the air with precision from the direction Sam is standing. Sam saw the opportunity he needed when Dean got the shifter talking and he reached into his boot for his last hidden weapon. Edwin's skin sears and burns with the contact and Lizzy takes the opportunity to get out of his slackened hold. She ducks under his arm and runs a few steps towards Dean who's taken the opportunity to snatch Sam's handgun off the floor, assuming it has silver bullets loaded in it.

"Hold the fuck still!" Edwin shouts at her back as she tries to flee. Pulling the knife out of his arm and tossing it away, he points the gun at her again and cocks it. "I'm not done!"

Lizzy freezes mid-mad-dash with the sound of metal clicking against metal, just knowing that the gun is once more trained on her. She keeps her sights focused hard on Dean, knowing his face and eyes will give away what's happening behind her.

"Yes you are," Dean tells him, aiming for Edwin with Sam's gun. Both stand tall and keep steady aim. Sam stands by silently with faith that his brother will get them out of this situation. His panic sets in when he recognizes the fear in Lizzy's eyes. She never has that look.

Lizzy stands completely still, afraid to move and further anger the shifter. She rarely gets this nervous but the high tension situation gets the better of her.

"Put it down, Edwin," Dean warns. "You can walk away from this right now. We won't come after you. I promise you'll be left alone."

"Exactly!" Edwin shouts helplessly back, tears falling through his anger. "I'll be alone! All alone!"

"But you'll be alive," Dean rebuts, hoping the shifter will listen and leave.

"What does being alive do for me if she's gone!" the shifter challenges. "You think you'd be able to go on without her?" He motions the gun Lizzy's way and Dean glances at her once, knowing he couldn't. He answers the question with a set jaw and gun trained.

"No. I couldn't."

"I'd rather kill myself than be without my Jackie," Edwin sobs, his face completely soaked by his own tears. "I've never loved anything or anyone more than her or my son."

"Just walk away, Edwin. Please," Dean begs, gun still steadily trained on the distressed shifter. "I can't bring her back. No one can. Just leave and it'll be over."

"No," Edwin refuses, his anger once more flaring. "If I have to live like this… then so do you."

Edwin's punctuates the end of his statement by pulling the trigger. His gun goes off, the shot reverberating in the abandoned air around them, and suddenly it's silent. Uncomfortably silent.

Lizzy's face is the first thing Dean really sees once they hear the deafening sound. Her expression washes through shock, then confusion, then finally utter fear as it goes completely white.

"He shot me," she states with a surprised yet flat voice. "Shit…. Dean…"

She falls onto her side on the ground without another word.

* * *

 


	20. Seeing Red

* * *

"He shot me," she states with a surprised yet flat voice. "Shit…. Dean…"

She falls onto her side on the ground without another word.

Seeing Lizzy fall and fearing the absolute worst, Dean flips a switch he was hoping to avoid. He sees red and for a second he lets the fire buried deep in his gut transform him into that thing he had been in the pit. He becomes pure malice, vengeance, and blind anger. He wants blood.

"No!" Dean bellows out from the depths of his soul as Lizzy hits the floorboards. Before he can think twice, he aims and fires three times rapidly, all three shots expertly hitting their mark off to the left of the shifter's chest. Edwin if forced back with the impact, hitting the wall behind him before rebounding off of it and thudding hard onto the floor face down. He lies motionless on the ground immediately with Dean's accuracy.

"Oh God… Lizzy!" Sam shouts as soon as the shifter is taken out. He rushes down to her, terrified. It feels to him like he's been shot himself, the pain of seeing her go down stabbing him in the heart.

Dean steps forward towards the creature splayed out on the floor, fully aware that he's dead, and stands over him. His anger hasn't subsided enough to stop himself form cold-bloodedly unloading three more shots into the lifeless body out of sheer hatred and spite.

"Dean!" Sam shouts up to his brother from the floor next to Lizzy, bringing him back to the situation at hand. Dean snaps his head around, looking down at Sam panicking over Lizzy's slumped frame.

"L!" Dean calls out, dropping to his knees at her side. "Lizzy. Hey." He reaches out to her and sees the blood quickly seeping into the back of her shirt. Tries to move her.

"Fuck!" Lizzy shouts suddenly with the searing pain she's in.

"Holy shit," Dean lets out with relief. She isn't dead. He's never been so happy to hear her drop an F-bomb in his life. "You ok?"

"Perfect," she sarcastically struggles out, moaning in pain.

Dean turns her towards him a little, getting a full view of where she was hit. Pulling down the collar of her t-shirt he sees the small puncture wound in the back of her lower shoulder.

"Can you breathe normal?" Dean asks, hoping the bullet missed her lung.

"Yeah, just feels like my fucking back is on fire," she grumbles. "You kill him?"

"Yeah," Dean admits, feeling a small tug of guilt over what he'd done. He didn't want to kill Edwin, especially after he heard their full story. But he hurt Lizzy and that's a real deal breaker in Dean's world. Now that he's looked her over and she's talking, and swearing of course, he begins to relax.

"Here, sit up," Sam tells her, helping push her up as gently as possible until she's seated. Knowing first aid as well as they did, he knew he had to get her injury above her heart to lessen the bleeding. Sam looks her over, searching the front of her shoulder for another bullet hole. "Shit, no exit wound."

"Awesome," Lizzy grumbles, knowing how painful digging out a bullet can be. "I'm in for a fun fucking night I guess."

"We'll make a Jameson stop on the way back to make it better," Sam offers with a huff as he takes off his white button-down and folds it up. He presses the fabric to her shoulder to help stop the bleeding.

"Thanks," Lizzy grimaces up to him as the pain flares with the contact.

Sam just shrugs back to her. "You ok enough to hang out for a bit?" he quietly asks in a calm, reassuring tone. Lizzy nods and smiles back to him with his concern. Sam smiles back, so relieved to see that she's alright. He'd been absolutely terrified the second she'd been hit. "I'm gonna go get the shovels. We'll torch and bury these two quick and get you back." He rests a reassuring hand on Lizzy's cheek before standing to get to work, leaving Dean and Lizzy on their own.

Dean sits on the dusty floorboards next to her, scooting close and letting her lean her unharmed side into him to alleviate some of the pressure that sitting up on her own accord was putting on her. He then wraps an arm around her shoulders and helps put pressure on the bundled shirt over the new hole in her shoulder.

Lizzy lifts her head and kisses Dean's lips lightly, just ensuring that she was back in the safety of his presence before returning to her position leaning against him.

"I almost lost you again," Lizzy sadly tells him, her head resting in the crook of his neck. "Thought they were gonna kill you."

"One did try to kill  _you,_ " Dean rebuts, taking her hand in his free one tightly and pulling it into his lap possessively.

"Minor flesh wound," Lizzy flatly jests, grasping just as tightly.

"Well you're taking it like a man," Dean comments back, awed by her lack of complaining.

"I'm taking it like a woman," Lizzy rebuts. "We have a higher threshold for pain. It's science."

"Well, either way, impressive." Dean finds pride in her once again. She's damn tough, this chick of his, and she's holding her own.

"Dean," Lizzy sighs heavily. "I'm worried." She looks up with sad eyes. "Is this really gonna be our life now?"

"This has always been our life," Dean responds with a furrowed brow, not really understanding her comment.

"I know that, but it's getting rougher out there now," she explains. "The evil bitches know about us and apparently they don't like that we're together very much."

"Yeah, I've noticed that too," he concedes, knowing how right he is.

"They're gonna keep using it against us," Lizzy warns. "They know our biggest weakness. We're fucking hunters and all hunters know you can't get too close to people. This is exactly why."

"Where the hell is all of this coming from?" Dean asks her, disturbed by the turn the conversation takes. She'd been fine with the situation they've made for themselves before now but clearly something's changed.

"I snapped today," Lizzy confesses ashamed. "When I walked into that destroyed motel room and found your gun without you attached, I fucking lost it. I needed revenge and that's all that mattered. I've never been so angry in my life and I let it control me. And… I really fucked up because of it."

"You didn't fuck up," he cautiously tells her, knowing he's wrong.

"Yes I did! I went into that shop blind. I barged in without thinking. Sam warned me over and over to calm down, keep a level head, but I never listened. Instead, I charged right in, no cover, no nothing."

"You never lose your cool like that on hunts," Dean remarks, upset with her reckless actions. "You're better than that."

"But that's exactly the point," she responds. "When it comes to you, I'm  _not_  better than that. I'm not even me. I'm a different person. I'm insanely possessive, and irrational, and my decision making is dangerous at best." She shakes her head and looks down onto the ground, fighting the tears that threaten to choke her. "Lou noticed it way back when, after we first met. Right from the get she said the same thing that I just did, that my judgment is clouded when concerning you. I always told her she was wrong, that I wasn't clouded by my feelings for you, but once again she was totally right."

"Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm the same way when it comes to you," he admits. "That shifter has about five bullet holes too many in him."

"It doesn't," Lizzy answers in a low, sad tone, the tears flowing freely. Dean peers down at her face and sees the trails already on her cheeks. "If we lived in the world everyone else does, we'd be perfect together. But in  _our_  world, we're no good for each other. Not at all."

"Don't say that," he asks of her. It hurt too much to hear her say things like that.

"But it's true, Dean. They're always going to try to find a way to tear us apart, we know that now. And I don't blame them. It's smart on their part to attack us where it hurts the most." Lizzy lifts her head and looks into his troubled eyes. "We're just not safe around each other."

"That's not true at all," Dean rebuts. "Together we are way stronger than apart. Screw what happened today."

"How can you say that? I could have gotten you and Sam killed! How do you know that it won't happen again?" Lizzy asks of him. "I could freak the fuck out all over again if your life is ever threatened. I don't like how I become when that happens."

"Then we'll fix it," he tries to reassure, though a real solution is nowhere to be found in his thoughts at the moment. She asks questions that Dean just doesn't know how to answer. "And you'll learn from your mistakes. We both will."

"Heat of the moment, your life is in the balance, any rational thought I manage to muster would go right out the fucking window and you know it," Lizzy admits.

"L, I'm not losing you because a bunch of monsters are fucking assholes, ok?" he tells her sternly, making sure she understands that he wants no part in what she's suggesting. "You and me, we're good. We're supposed to be together, not apart. So you can take this concern of yours and forget that it ever happened. I'm never letting you go."

"More and more, I'm starting to think this world would be better off if you could," Lizzy says and lets out a sob at the end. "We'll always choose saving each other over saving any amount of innocent people."

"That's not true," Dean rebuts with unreasoning certainty.

"Oh no?" Lizzy returns with surprise at his rebuttal.

"No! And it doesn't matter anyways. The way I see it, we deserve this," Dean determinedly says like the mantra that it is.

"Just like we deserve to have a house, and kids, and a really boring, safe job… what makes this different from everything else we can't have that we deserve so damn much?"

Hopeless. Dean looks down at her with sheer, utter hopelessness. Why would she talk like this? How could she think this? It hurts, right to his core, to have her speak this way. What hurts more is how much sense she's making. Yet he still refuses to agree with her.

"I can live without those things," he says with conviction. "I don't need kids and a pay check to make it through. They'd be nice but I'll survive. I  _need_ you, L. If I don't have that, I don't have a damn thing. Now cut the shit with this we're not good for each other crap. It's not true. To every demon, monster, whatever out there, I say fucking bring it. They'll never get me to leave you."

Lizzy hangs her head and nods. He's right in the long run, she knows it. Neither would ever get by without the other, not at this point. She nearly crumbled without him once before. That should be proof enough.

"Just stay strong with me," Dean adds on, dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Anything good in life is always worth fighting for. I won't stop fighting for you, ever."

"You sound like a motivational poster." Lizzy huffs a small laugh through her tears and looks up at Dean, her Dean. Damn, she missed him terribly today. It was a long day of confusion, deceit, and let down. She's glad that part's over and they can return to normal… for now. She puts the lingering concern of the looming next threat in the back of her mind and breathes out in relief that he's back. She's never had someone in her life that cares so much and was willing to do anything in the world for her. At least not since Lou.

"Shut up," Dean lightly tells her as he moves to stand while helping her up. "You ready?"

"Sure," Lizzy sarcastically says while moving to stand, the damaged muscles in her back protesting loudly as she does. Lizzy grunts her pain as Dean pulls her up. "Fucking-A." She holds her arm close into her body, hoping not to have to move it much more.

"You ever been shot before?" Dean asks, his arm once again around her shoulder and keeping Sam's shirt in place as they walk out of the store and towards the car.

"Nope," she answers honestly. "Louie did a few times though. Saw what she went through when I had to get the bullet out twice so I know this'll be no picnic."

"That it won't," Dean tells her. "But you're threshold for pain is higher than mine, so you'll be ok, right?"

"Asshole," Lizzy comments while leaning heavier into him and allowing herself the luxury of a very small smile. She was on vacation after all.

* * *

"You sure you're ready?" Dean asks her, sitting on one of the beds of their third motel room in three nights. Lizzy sits straddling a backwards chair at the table with Sam in the other chair positioned just behind her. Dean swears that Sam is better at this kind of thing, so he nominated him as bullet-retriever. Lizzy's black medical bag has been emptied onto the tabletop, items laid out and organized just how Sam wanted them, and the Jameson bottle they purchased on the way back to Vegas is in her hand, a good amount already gone.

"Vicodin's going strong," Lizzy answers. "Booze is buzzing. I'm about as ready as I'll ever be."

"Ok," Sam sighs, taking up the large pair of tweezers and pressing a square of gauze just below her injury to catch any blood of the blood that will seep out. "Let me know if you need me to stop at any point."

"I'll be fine," she responds without much faith, lifting the bottle with her left arm once more and downing one final gulp before the pain hits. When it does, it really hits. She blinks away the tears that form automatically. The fire in her skin is white hot and she swears she's getting shot all over again. "Holy fucking shit."

"L?" Dean looks over in concern with her complaint. He'd give anything to take her place and keep her from the horrible anguish.

"Fine," her taxed voice responds as sweat begins forming on her skin and the nails of her right fingers dig into the wooden back of the chair she's in. "Just… adjusting."

"Sorry, Lizzy, but this thing is deep," Sam unhappily informs her.

"That's what he said," she roughly jokes through her suffering to make it more bearable and Dean laughs slightly through his concern for her wellbeing.

"So while I'm doing this, I think it'd be a good time to tell Dean about what happened in the car." Sam keeps working as if he said nothing important but he can feel the hatred coming off of Lizzy with his very abrupt and unwelcomed change of subject .

"Damn it, Sam," Lizzy complains, knowing he has her stuck in the chair she's in and she can't run away from the issue. Sometimes Sam's so damn smart it's downright annoying, Lizzy thinks to herself.

"What happened in the car?" Dean questions with concern but he goes unanswered.

"Hey, I just thought you could use the distraction right now," Sam all too innocently explains to Lizzy.

"Hey, I just thought you could use the distraction right now," she mimics him like a child over her shoulder. "No, you thought you could force me to talk because I'm trapped here while you go all Doogie Howser on my shit. Ow!"

"Hey, what happened?" Dean tries again, a little louder this time, but still goes unnoticed.

"You caught me," Sam admits. "But you have to tell him sooner or later and we need to find out what's going on with you."

"But Jesus Sam-I-Am, you couldn't have given me at least one night before…" Lizzy starts but Dean's impatience with being ignored topples him.

"What happened in the fucking car!" Dean shouts, making both at the table turn sharply to him with wide eyes. He sends an expectant look their way while the room goes quiet with his outburst. Taking a deep breath, Lizzy prepares to fill him in as much as she'd rather not.

"I realized something today," Lizzy begins with dread. The last thing she wants to do is add to the burden Dean already carries but once again, what choice did her weird-ass life give her. "I, um, have this… ability, I guess."

"Oh, I already don't like where this is going," Dean gripes as he leans forward, elbows propped on his knees, and focuses in on her. "What kind of ability are we talking about here?"

"Not really sure yet. It's pretty fucking weird. Ah shit!" Lizzy slips out as her back stiffens when Sam hits a nerve.

"Sorry," he quickly says from his seat behind her. "I think I almost got it. Just sit tight."

"Hey, focus here," Dean asks of Lizzy in a demanding tone as he points his index and middle finger to his own eyes in attempt to get her back on track. She's scaring him and he needs to know what's going on. "Weird how? What abilities?"

"I think I might have some kind of mental link to angels," she tells him with her eyes slammed shut as Sam keeps working. "Or maybe it's just to Castiel."

"A link," Dean repeats with uneasiness. "Explain."

"Well, today Sam told me I should call Cas for help when we were on our way to find you. I told him no. He asked… ah, Jesus… he asked why and I said it was because Cas was busy. He was in a battle."

"And?" Dean doesn't connect the dots. Castiel was busy a lot and they'd known that.

"I knew he was fighting but I never talked to him," Lizzy tells him. "I just knew somehow, without being told. Fuck, Sam!" Her eyes squeeze shut one more time as the pain worsens yet again.

"Got it," Sam announces as he pulls the tweezers from the bullet hole, the metal slug coming with it.

"Oh, thank God," Lizzy pushes out a heavy breath and wipes the sweat off of her forehead with the back of her hand. "Shit, that sucked."

"So you thought he might be busy. That's no big deal, right?" Dean continues on in their conversation. "Couldn't that just be a lucky guess?"

"No, it was more than that. There was no guessing," Lizzy says, her eyes and brain finally able to focus fully on Dean as she continues. "I knew for sure. And even though I knew that he was cracking skulls I figured what the hell and called for him. He didn't show up at first but I could sense that he heard me so I tried again. This time I told him you were in trouble and that got his wings flapping. I could feel that he was heading to us before he arrived and sure enough, a couple seconds later he was sitting in the backseat of the car."

"I'm starting to see the weird now," Dean tells her. "That the first time this has ever happened?"

Sam laughs quietly as he reaches for the bottle of whiskey in Lizzy hands. "First question I asked her too."

"No," Lizzy says quietly while handing over the whiskey and looking at Dean with uncertainty as how to explain herself and what her ability is like. "Hmm, ok, so you ever think about someone, they pop into your head randomly without reason and then two seconds later they call you or you see them out somewhere?"

"Yeah, that's called a coincidence," Dean informs her caustically.

"Well, it's a bit like that, but with Cas. It's happened twice before today too. He jumped into my thoughts randomly the time he interrupted us while we were about to fuck on the stairs in my apartment..."

"I'm right here!" Sam loudly complains. Lizzy had a tendency to overshare in the presence of people who didn't necessarily want to be shared with. Sam discovered this when she hit the road with them a few months ago.

"…and then poof, there the little peeping Tom was," she continues, completely ignoring Sam's whining. "Then when he came to the rescue a few days later, I knew he was on his way a little before he arrived."

"Shit," Dean laments as he realizes that sometime in their conversation he stood up and began pacing the floor of the motel room.

"Ready?" Sam questions with the whiskey bottle at the ready. Lizzy nods and Sam holds out his forearm across the table. Lizzy grabs onto him with both hands and before she can think twice, Sam douses the wound with the liquid to sterilize the area and Lizzy grits her teeth while digging her nails into arm with the burn.

"I asked Cas to come talk to me when he can," Lizzy explains as the burn in her shoulder quiets down and she lets go of her hold on Sam. "So I guess when he's got a couple free minutes, we'll find out what's going on."

"What's with you two, huh?" Dean stops mid pace and stares his small family down. "Why can't you just be normal, totally boring, fucked-up-mind-power-free, human people?"

Lizzy and Sam just stare at him speechless for a beat.

"Jesus," Dean sits back down and puts his head in his hands. "So you're psychic then? A Miss Cleo of God's fucking messengers, is that it?"

"No," Lizzy says, not wanting to submit to such a heavy label being put on her. "I just have some slight angel radar. Look, Dean, I'm not that worried here, so relax. Cas will fill us in when he can and then if we need to be concerned afterwards, we will be."

Dean gives her a shocked look at her nonchalance before turning to Sam with the same expression. His brother reads his thoughts loud and clear.

"Hey man, I already told her I thought it was super weird that she's so calm over this." Sam starts in on the few stitches needed to close her up. "But she makes a good point. Let's just wait for Castiel instead of get all frustrated over it before we know anything for sure."

"Can't we just get some food, watch some movies, drink face and pass out tonight?" Lizzy asks, the itch to be quiet and try to kill the pain of the weekend by taking it easy. "No talk of supernatural bullshit or psychic crap or anything terrible. I just need a second here."

Dean looks over at her exhausted face, eyes worn and body drooping with the anguish it's been through. It's then that he sees it; it's deep seated and buried as much as she could bury it, but he sees it clear as day. She's mourning still. Even through the fucked up day they had, she's still thinking about Lou. Afraid that she'll pull the whole depression act that she does sometimes, he happily gives in. Plus, how can he say no to her request after everything she went through today?

"Fine," Dean answers, still frustrated by the new development in their lives. "But Cas better show up tomorrow or I'm praying his ass down here pronto."

"Don't worry, your butt-buddy will get here when he can," Sam jests as Lizzy laughs and lifts her pain-free hand over her shoulder, palm facing him. Sam high-fives her and then gets back to work.

"You two fucking suck, you know that?" Dean says while grabbing his jacket as he's had enough of them. "I'm getting some food."

"Cheeseburger!" Lizzy shouts as he opens the door. "With bacon!" The door slams shut and she hopes he heard her. After a day like today, a big ass, full fat burger was in order. "He better have heard me."

"That went well," Sam comments as he begins dressing her wound. "Wouldn't you say?"

"Swimmingly," she remarks and turns to face him. "Thanks Sam."

"You're welcome," Sam smiles.

"No I mean for everything," she says, grabbing his hand as she always did while speaking from the heart. At least now Sam was more comfortable with it than he used to be. Maybe he's just accustomed to it by now, but it could easily be that the day ended up making them even closer than they had been before. "For patching me up, for making me tell Dean all that, for trying your best to get through to me when I lost my marbles today... I'm really,  _really_  sorry about that by the way."

"Yeah, well, you're an angry person," Sam says to her. "I've gotten used to it."

Lizzy shares a small smile. "All I'm trying to say is I owe you for today. You were awesome and I was a mess."

"Just paying you back then," Sam explains. "You did the same for me when Dean was gone. I was just returning the favor."

"We're even then," Lizzy admits. "Sam, I think… I want you to know that what the shifter looking like me said on that video… it was the truth."

"You want me to fuck your ass?" Sam boldly asks with fake shock, catching her completely off guard and making her laugh.

"Holy shit! Sam Winchester trying to be funny!" Lizzy says, eyes lit up with amusement. "No, kiddo, I don't want you to fuck my ass. That's the wrong video."

"Don't call me kiddo," Sam repeats for the millionth time.

"Sorry," Lizzy apologies, realizing for the first time how inappropriate that name is for him. "You're not a kid, I shouldn't call you that."

"Thank you," Sam returns, happy to get that nickname off the list. "And for what it's worth, what that shifter looking like me said, it's true too. You are special. And I'm very fortunate to have you in my life. I mean it."

Lizzy doesn't answer as the rose color once again floors her cheeks with his honesty. She doesn't really know what to say, which is odd for her. There's something different about Sam in her eyes now, though she can't put her finger on it. Instead of really recognize it, she moves on for the topic.

"Here's to being disasters," Lizzy says and raises the whiskey bottle toward Sam. She takes a swig and passes it on, Sam doing the same. "Oh, on a side note, we need to make sure that the evidence from our, ah, time together is destroyed."

"I thought of that already and I completely agree," Sam returns as he begins packing up the supplies. "I'll go to the motels and pick everything up tomorrow. Then burn them to a crisp."

"Good idea," Lizzy agrees emphatically while standing up.

"I think we also need to find a lawyer," Sam brings up. "That marriage license is real with what looks like our signatures on it. In the eyes of the law, we're hitched."

"What a fucking mess, dude," Lizzy bemoans as she stand up. "I'm taking a shower. Gonna try and go wash off the skeeve from the day."

Sam huffs quietly while he watches her disappear into the small bathroom. What a fucking day. He gets up and shuffles to the bed farthest from the door out of instinct and flops down onto it.

Hell of a way to celebrate Lou's life. At least in the end the whole ordeal wasn't for nothing. He learned a whole lot more, not all of it good of course, about the other girl in his life. Through it all, he's gained an even stronger bond with  _his_  Lizzy.

* * *

 


	21. Run Like Hell

* * *

* * *

Mid-morning Dean stirs. He rolls over onto his side to drape an arm over Lizzy's frame through his still sleep drenched mind and instead of her warm body, his hand hits the mattress. The jolt of her absence hits him fast and hard. Eyes flying open, he can see that the other side of the bed is empty. Dean sits up with a start and when he sees the dark bathroom with wide open door his heart begins to pound rapidly in his chest.

"Sam," Dean calls out to his sleeping brother in the bed next to his. Sam moves a little and groans but doesn't open his eyes. "Sammy, get up."

He didn't need to be told again. Sam sits tall with the tone of Dean's voice and looks over at his brother with alarm. "Where's Lizzy?" he questions sharply as the slumber starts to clear and realizes the group is one member short.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing," Dean tells him.

"Hey," Sam nods to the motel room door behind Dean. Dean turns and looks, seeing a note stabbed into the door with one of the small silver knives she had been armed with the day before. He's on his feet in a split second, tearing the note off the door and reading it.

"Dean?" Sam questions, needing to know what was written on the back of an old receipt.

"Shit," Dean laments downtrodden, looking back to Sam once he's done reading. "Knew this what gonna happen."

"What? Where is she?"

"She's got herself holed up somewhere," Dean explains. "Note says she needed a few days away and not to worry about her. Says she has to be alone."

"Why?" Sam wonders, not understanding.

"She's doing her depression thing, just like I knew she eventually would," Dean tells his brother. "It's about Lou. I should've seen it coming. She was all kinds of off last night before we fell asleep. She disappears when in this mindset and practically drinks herself comatose." Dean crumples the note and throws it in frustration.

"Great," Sam complains as he lies back in bed heavily. He knew she did this when Lou died, and when Dean went to hell. It was the only times in those difficult four months that she wouldn't answer the phone when he called her. And it was ugly every time. "You know where she is?"

"She didn't say, but I'm sure I can figure it out." Dean begins moving around the room to pack his things. "Come on, let's check out of here and get to her."

"Lizzy'll be pissed if we come get her," Sam thinks aloud. "Lou meant the world to her, Dean. You sure we shouldn't just give her some time?"

"Lou would never want L to drink herself to death all alone, or ignore her injury and get it infected because she was depressed," Dean rebuts. "I'm not letting her go through this alone. She shouldn't be alone right now."

It's more than that though. Dean's worried about her state of mind. Life has gotten bad recently, really bad. He's uneasy with the thought of her being on her own, her thoughts allowed to rule her completely. He needs to get to her.

"Ok," Sam says, finally getting out of bed. "You sure you can figure out where she is?"

"There are two people in this world I know better than myself, Sammy," Dean confidently announces. "Trust me, I'll find her."

* * *

It's dark in the room and it's just what she needed. She can barely see anything and if she keeps drinking maybe, just maybe, she won't be able to feel anything either. A girl can hope, can't she?

Once Lizzy decided to sneak out in the middle of the night, she caught a cab to a hotel on the other side of the city, one that had a liquor store nearby and was of a higher quality than they were used to, just to throw them off her trail. She bought herself a few bottle of Lou's favorite booze and checked in using a name she's never used before in the hopes to give herself a few days away from the Winchesters. She loved them both, God did she, but time off is necessary right now. Plus, if they were around they'd never let her act the troubling way she wanted to. Lizzy aches to just hide away in a cocoon of booze, sleep, and self-loathing depression before she goes back to her very difficult and ever stressful life.

Lou still remained in the forefront of her mind every day. After her parents died, she was told over and over by consoling individuals that it would get easier, just give it time. And they were right, it did. She thought about the pain of their loss less and less as the days, months, years went on. She's come to accept it as much as any person can accept the tragic loss of their family members. But the loss of Louie, well that just never got better. If anything it hurt more over time. As life keeps hammering away at her, creating new and even more terrible issues on an almost weekly basis, she longed for her best friend more than ever. Her sister. Her total source of strength throughout her life. Sam was always comforting and Dean made life infinitely better, but without Lou it was incomplete. It was always going to suck. It was always going to be partially empty.

Lying on her side in the fetal position facing away from the door, she lifts her head slightly to take down more Jack Daniels, the liquor burning its way down her throat. This place she's in is sad and pathetic, but safe. No one's there to judge or make her act in any way other than how she wants to. She wants to stay here forever, forget the ending world exists at all, and drink away the horrible loss that plagues her daily.

Pulling her out of her desolate thoughts is the sound of a key card being slid into her hotel room door. Fuck, she thinks. They couldn't even give her twenty-four hours alone? Hunters suck. They can figure anything out, especially a missing person, especially a missing person that they know well.

The door creeks open slowly and then it's silent. Sam and Dean stand there at the threshold, peering in on her curled up figure with her back to them. The shades are drawn to make the room nearly black and they aren't sure what to do.

"Either come in or shut the fucking door," Lizzy quietly grumbles to them with another tilt of the bottle and the brothers look to each other with questioning looks.

"Give me five minutes?" Sam asks of Dean in a whisper. Dean thinks it over quickly, looking at Lizzy first then nodding in agreement. More and more, Sam and Lizzy seem to relate to each other. Maybe he can talk some sense into her.

"I'll go get you a room," Dean whispers back. "You shouldn't be in here for this."

"Ok," Sam agrees.

"I'm drunk, not deaf," Lizzy calls over to them in her slurring voice, annoyed that they're talking about her while she's in their presence and even more annoyed that they are invading her space. "Idiots." She takes another swig as Sam cautiously enters the room and Dean leaves for the front office.

Sam shuts the door quietly behind him and walks to the bed she's on, standing behind her.

"I miss her too," Sam shares his simple yet loaded statement with Lizzy.

"I'm sure you do," Lizzy responds while looking at the ugly, yellowing wallpaper covered wall in her line of sight.

"Sometimes," Sam begins while taking a seat on the bed next to her, Lizzy making no attempt to face him. "I have these dreams about her. They're really vivid, really… real. Like she's still here."

"Well, she's not," Lizzy bitingly responds, more Jack being taken down. "Cas made sure to tell me she isn't."

"I know, and when I wake up from these dreams, I always wish I'd never had them," he continues explaining. "They tear me apart every damn time and I can't stop them from coming."

Lizzy closes her eyes. Tear drops make their way out and fall onto the pillow under her head with his words. She sometimes forgets that she isn't the only one suffering with Lou's death still.

"She's always there, always right in the forefront of my thoughts," Sam admits to her. "And worst of all, I'm left feeling like I took advantage of her when she was still alive."

"You didn't," Lizzy's quiet voice tells him.

"But I did," Sam returns. "I never told her how I felt. I never let her know. She died not having a clue of how amazing I thought she was, or how important she was to me."

"Don't dwell," Lizzy plainly states with a hint of impatience. "She knew."

"How could she?" Sam asks.

"She felt the same, Sam." Lizzy pulls down more liquor and Sam has the urge to steal the bottle from her. He decides it wouldn't be worth the beating she'd give him. That can be Dean's department. "Don't regret what you didn't say. She fucking knew all along."

"Why didn't she tell me?" Sam says, keeping his emotions in check as much as possible. He came in there to be strong for her, not fall apart with her.

"Same reason you didn't. She may not have fully recognized it before it was too late, but I could see through it. She was in love."

Sam stays quiet for a moment, the revelation hitting him hard as he drops a hand on her hip. He tells himself to focus as this visit isn't about his feelings for Lou. It is about Lizzy's behavior and making sure she's alright.

"You should stay with us," Sam suggests, trying to get her out of her low state while rubbing his palm against her jeans. "Get sober, head to the next hunt. Get back to normal."

"That's a shitty normal," Lizzy tells him, tone still deep and sad.

"But it's our normal," he reminds her. "C'mon, get up. We'll stay another day or two and hit the road again."

"No."

"Lizzy, you know that she wouldn't want this for you," Sam says, trying a different angle now.

"Don't fucking care."

"She'd be pissed, actually."

"I don't care anymore! She's  _not_  here," Lizzy takes down several gulps and Sam becomes more concerned than before. She's nearly done with her first bottle, a bottle that was meant to last much longer than half a day. "Stop being so God damn nice, Sam."

"I'm just saying maybe you should slow down."

"And I'm saying maybe you should leave."

Sam feels her icy cold words hit him hard. She's drunk. She's mourning still. She needs Dean. He's willing to recognize when he's useless in a situation and this is clearly one of those situations.

"Alright," Sam says, squeezing her hip once before standing back up. He pauses before he leaves the room. "Just… be careful with yourself. Some of us still need you. More than you know."

Lizzy huffs a patronizing laugh and Sam makes his way out the door, stopping to quietly grab the still unopened bottle on the table by the door and feeling like a hurt child with her words all the while.

* * *

One look at Sam's face as he waits in front of Lizzy's door and Dean knows how bad it really is. Sam says nothing to his brother when he gets back from the check-in desk. He just exchanges the untouched Jack Daniel's bottle for the keycard to the room next door with a sad look before disappearing into it. Dean then stands outside Lizzy's door for a moment before placing the full bottle on the hallway carpet and quietly entering.

"Leave me alone, Dean," Lizzy says to him, knowing it was his turn to come and try to talk some sense into her.

"Nope," he simply answers, dropping his bag next to hers by the doorway. He takes out a large canister of salt from his duffel and starts lining all the possible entrances of the room. Fuck the world right now. This time it needs to be just them and all he wants is to help her past this depression without supernatural interruptions.

"Please," Lizzy begs in a pathetic tone, wanting desperately to be alone. "Just… go away."

"Not a chance," he returns as he pours salt across the doorway.

Lizzy doesn't try again. She just lays there, almost empty bottle in hand and listens to him moving around the room as he lines the windows.

Once done, Dean walks over to the side of the bed Lizzy is facing and sits on the floor so that they are face to face.

"Hand it over," he says unflinchingly, holding his hand out to her for the bottle in her grasp.

"Touch it and you die," she warns him, grasp on the glass container tightening.

"Fine, you're almost done anyways," Dean gives in. "But after that, you're cut off."

"Fuck you," Lizzy drunkenly spits back, angry that he's trying to take control of the situation. "I didn't ask you to come here and police me."

"Well ain't love just a son of a bitch then. Deal with it," Dean rebuts, not giving in to his desire to be nice, to hug her, to be comforting to her. This time it has to be tough love all the way for Lizzy, as much as it kills him. Luckily it's extremely rare that she makes him act this way.

Just to spite the man in front of her, Lizzy eyes him challengingly and lifts the bottle, chugging down the rest of the liquor while staring him down. Dean sighs while shaking his head.

"You're gonna regret that," Dean tells her, knowing the hangover she'll have tomorrow is going to be awful. He takes the empty bottle from her and stands up.

"No I won't," Lizzy returns like a stubborn child.

"Good one," Dean sarcastically remarks while tossing the bottle into the trash can.

Lizzy sits up, the room spinning fast circles as she does, and looks over to the empty table by the door. "Where's my Jack?"

"Gone," Dean tells her, walking to the door to grab both their bags and drop them onto what is now designated as his bed.

"The balls on you," Lizzy grumbles as she gets out of bed, faltering as she does. Dean swiftly walks to her, grabbing her bicep to prevent her from falling and Lizzy sloppily shrugs off his attempts. "Get away from me."

Dean releases his grip on her and lets her pass, assuming she was heading to the bathroom. Instead she takes a stumbling turn toward the room door.

"Where you going?" Dean asks her.

"To get my booze back," Lizzy slurs out as she grabs the doorknob and pulls. Dean rushes to the door and pushes it shut before she can open it all the way. "Seriously, what the fuck, Dean?"

"You're not going out like this," dean tells her. "You're a mess."

"Takes one to know one," Lizzy fires back at him. "Let me out."

"No," Dean stands his ground, palm still pressed to the door.

"Dean," Lizzy warns. "Let me out." Her eyes glare at him with hatred.

"Not happening," he glares right back. Lizzy tried her best to push him, but her inebriated state makes her much weaker than she normally is. This only frustrates her more.

"Fuck!" Lizzy shouts as her anger claims her and tries to take an uncoordinated swing at him. Dean easily catches her forearm midair.

"Swing all you want, L, but I'm not letting you leave," Dean informs her, releasing her arm.

"You are  _not_  my fucking guardian, ok!" Lizzy says winding up again and Dean's had it. He's not going to physically fight her while this inebriated. Grabbing tightly to her upper arms while pinned to her sides, he lifts her off the floor and walks until they reach her bed. He then forces her down to sit on the bottom edge while leaning down to face her.

"You're acting like a child," he informs her after treating her much like one.

"And you're acting like a real asshole," she returns, rolling her freshly injured shoulder he just grabbed her by. If she wasn't so drunk, that might have seriously hurt.

"Get your shit together, would you?" Dean asks of her, letting her go and standing tall in front of her. "This isn't you. I hate when you act like this."

"That's why I left to be alone," she glares back at him. "So I wouldn't get the lecture or the fucking guilt trip from you and Sam."

"We're not trying to guilt you, L," Dean angrily informs her. "We just want you to be smart, and safe, and not drink yourself to death. Lou would want the same."

"And she's gone," Lizzy spits back. "So who gives a fuck?"

Dean's anger threatens to topple him as he leans forward, grabbing her left forearm tightly and pulling it in front of her face, forcing her to look at the image of Lou she had tattooed on it in her memory.

"No she isn't," he loudly tells her as he watches Lizzy close her eyes, unable to look at her friend's face. "She's only gone if you forget her. You'll never forget her, L. Never. What you should be doing is honoring her by not being a drunken waste of space. You should be out there fighting, not practically killing yourself all alone."

"I fucking hate you, you know that?" Lizzy says quietly after pausing to think. She knows he's telling her the truth but she doesn't want to hear it right now. Instead, she pulls out the big guns and aims to hurt him as much as possible for making her feel badly about her decision to hole up alone. Dean freezes with her horrible statement, pausing to stop himself from overreacting to her overly harsh words.

"You don't mean that," Dean returns while dropping her arm and staring back at her for a moment. He makes his way to his bed and drops back down exasperated, trying to separate himself from the stranger in the next bed. Lizzy curls up once more with her back to him on her own mattress, not wanting to see the man that's angering her at the moment.

"Yes I do," Lizzy rebuts lowly. "You ruined my life."

"Lizzy, stop saying things you don't mean because you're drunk and pissed off," Dean tells her as he sits up against the headboard.

"I'm not, I mean it," Lizzy further insults while refusing to look at him.

Dean closes his eyes and bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying something out of sheer vengeance. She doesn't mean any of it, not a word, but it still hurts. Hard. Instead of feed into her hatred, Dean takes up the remote and turns on the TV to distract himself as he prepares to wait out her miserable drunkenness.

"My life would have been so much better if I never met you or Sam."

"Just go to sleep already, would you?" Dean calls over to her with the stab in the heart she deals out.

"Don't tell me what to do," Lizzy quietly says to him as her voice gets quieter.

After a few minutes of channel surfing, Dean hears her even breathing and knows she's out. Thank God, he thinks. That mouth of hers should be considered a weapon.

Dean does what he can to get her more comfortable. He takes off her boots, manages to pull the covers out from under her, and then drape them over her body. Walking away briefly to turn on the air conditioner as she always overheats when she's drunk, he takes a seat next to her sleeping body. Her face looks peaceful in the moment but he knows it's just a mask. On the inside, she's a disaster that has been reduced to solitary binge drinking just to get by when the world crushes her usually strong persona.

Brushing her hair out of her face he's overwhelmed with his love for this one person. Even with the horrific things she just said to him, it changes nothing. He still loves her completely. She's just broken, much like he is, so he understands. Her anger may have been displaced onto him this time, but if that's what it takes for her to get it out that's fine with him. She can tell him she hates him every day if it made her better. He just wanted her to be better, to live better, to be happy. He had never been able to fully grasp exactly how his father could go so far off the deep end when his mother died until now. If anything ever took her from him, he'd be the very same way. He'd never stop until the thing that took her felt his pain. And now he fully understands Sam also. Jessica's death changed him. He was determined and unforgiving… and downright terrifying. If only Dean knew then what he knows now, he'd have been much more accepting of Sam's behavior and mental state. God damn, that kid has been through way too much.

Maybe the evil world was out to get the two of them like Lizzy said before, but he'll fight tooth and nail to keep her if it is. She deserves the fucking world on a plate, and that longing to give her just that still nagged at him every day. He's seen her suffer through so much and give up even more just to be with him and fight for what's right.

She is a good woman, better than he deserves, and he needs to let her know just that.

Getting an idea, Dean gets off the bed slowly, careful not to wake her, and heads out the door into the hallway. He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials.

"Hey Bobby," Dean says when he gets an answer. "Oh yeah, vaca's been great." He'd rather not explain the whole ordeal right now. "Um, so I got a question for you. I know you have a bunch of Dad's stuff down in the basement, right? I was wondering if you had something there that I'm looking for…"

* * *

 


	22. Sweet Dreams are Made of This

* * *

Having nothing to do all day while Dean clearly fights a losing battle next door with Lizzy, Sam struggles to keep himself occupied.  First he left to go collect all their things from the first two motels they stayed at.  Frighteningly, the video camera from the honeymoon suit was mysteriously gone by the time he got there.  With its contents, Sam’s highly concerned about this but decides to keep that information from Dean and Lizzy.  They’d just freak out and they didn’t need the added stress right now. 

After getting back, Sam used a pair of wire cutters to very carefully cut off the wedding ring stuck on his finger before checking around online for a new hunt or maybe omens that might lead to the breaking of another seal.  Then he finally calls Ruby back after she’s left several messages the past few days that he never answered.  She’s pissed for being ignored, but understands once he explained everything.  They decide to meet up the first chance both of them have as Sam is ready to re-up.  Settling on watching TV, Sam stares at the screen but never absorbs any of what he sees.  His mind is preoccupied and there’s nothing he can do to change it.

Once more, Lou is stubbornly standing her ground in his thoughts, refusing to move.  She’s been like an annoyingly persistent child this past week especially, poking his brain over and over just to make sure she has his attention through the painful one year anniversary.  Sam lies back in his bed, hands folded across his stomach and closes his eyes.  Over time, he started to lose things about Jessica in his memory.  He used to be able to see her face clear as day, but now parts of her are fuzzy, like an out of focus picture, and it made him sad when he recognized it happening slowly but surely.  Lou’s image, however, never lost a thing in his mind.  It’s still sharp, fully focused, and hauntingly perfect.  Behind the lids of his eyes he can see her long blond hair, her incredibly clear, bright blue eyes, her olive skin, her small button nose, everything.  He can almost still hear her voice. 

“Hey there, Iron Giant.”

His heart stops.  Once again, crystal clear he hears her, and it’s most certainly her.  Slowly opening his eyes, he sees her looking down at him, her golden hair hanging down and framing her smiling face. 

“I fell asleep, didn’t I?” Sam asks the woman sitting atop his hips as he runs his hands along her thighs without thinking.  It figures that this would happen right after telling Lizzy that he had dreams about her still.  He’d practically doomed himself.

“Sure did,” she tells him, still smiling while placing a gentile hand to the side of his face.  “It’s good to see you.”

“Always so good to see you, Lou,” Sam responds up to her lovingly.

“You look tired,” she tells him, running her fingers lightly across the bag under one of his eyes.

“I’m always tired,” he explains to her, allowing himself the luxury of a real smile.  He should be depressed by this, knowing how hard the pain and loneliness will hit when he wakes up, but these dreams of his are really the only time he can be honestly, one-hundred percent happy.  They look real, feel real, smell real, sound real… so he indulges where and when he can. 

“You should take better care of yourself, Sam,” she says to him with a lopsided smile, knowing how impossible that really was to do.  “Gonna wear yourself out.”

“Thought that was your job,” Sam rebuts with a grin as Lou laughs at his humor.

“Oh, I sure know how to wear you out!” she chuckles back. 

“I miss you,” Sam admits up to her, his hands moving to her waist and slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel the warmth of her body.  “Every damn day, I miss you more.”

Lou gives him a sympathetic look.  “I know you do.  And I’m sorry I can’t be there for you.”

“You weren’t trying to get turned,” Sam shrugs, knowing her being gone was never her fault.  Just a hazard of their job.  “I just wish we had more time... and I wish that I’d used what little time we had together differently.”

“Oh, stop,” Lou says, lightly slapping her hand to his cheek playfully.  “I wasn’t meant to be on Earth for long.  It happens.  But you…” she holds his chin and squeezes, making Sam’s lips pucker.  “You are meant to go on and kick some ass.  Don’t be so sad, you’re still making a huge difference.”  She leans down and kisses his overly pursed lips before letting him go. 

“But it’s lonely,” he explains.  “I’m on my own a lot now and it just makes your absence that much worse.”

“That’s why I visit when I can, duh,” she tells him with a grin. 

“But it’s not really you.  It’s just my apparently very overactive imagination.”

“How do you know it isn’t really me visiting from beyond the grave for a little ghost-on-human action now and then, huh?” she challenges while still sitting atop him, hands on her hips.

“Cas told me… or Lizzy told me what Cas said,” he sadly explains.  “He said you weren’t around.”

“Bastard,” Lou name calls the angel for telling the truth.  “At least your brain is nice enough to bring me around when it can.”

“Except for when I wake up.  I come to and you’re not there and it hurts worse than before.”

“Oh,” Lou says quietly, sorrow in her expression.  She moves to get up off of the bed and off of him.  “I should probably leave then, huh?”

“What!?” Sam responds loudly with disappointed alarm as she stands up.

“Well, I don’t want you to wake up disappointed,” Lou tells him while walking for the door of the motel room he fell asleep in.  “I’ll just leave, it’s fine.  I understand.”

“No… wait,” Sam calls to her as he leaps out of the bed and runs to her, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her in before speaking into her ear.  “Don’t go.  Please.”

“But you said…” Lou tries to rebut, but Sam stops her when he turns her head by her cheek and kisses her with everything he has.  He puts forth his best in hopes that it’ll change her mind.  Melting into him, Lou snakes her hand around Sam’s neck and he relaxes.  She’s not going anywhere.

“This better mean you’re not gonna change your mind,” Lou warns as she hastily turns around to face him, letting her hands slip under his shirt and taking in the feel of him in as she always did.  She made no attempt to hide how much she relished his body when she was alive and in his memory, she’s still the same.  “Because if you’re still kicking me out I may have to kill you for being such a tease.”

“Stay,” Sam quickly tells her, slamming his lips to hers once more while she yanks his shirt up and off, ready to attack. 

“God damn,” Lou sighs while her slender hands are everywhere.  Sam feels that hitch of pride somewhere deep down that he always felt when she’d praise him.  Maybe that’s why he liked her so much.  She was his little blond ego booster.

Sam lifts her shirt, that same Red Sox shirt she’s always wearing when he sees her in his dreams, and pulls it over her head.  Before he can get to it, Lou is already unclasping her bra and tossing it aside.  She moves fast when she’s ready to go, which was almost always, and Sam knows she’s about to pounce on him.  This time however, he wants to beat her to it. 

Grabbing her hips, Sam spins her around abruptly and pulls her in with her back against him, his arms locking her in.  Sliding one hand up over her stomach, he stops when he reaches her neck to turn her head up to him once more.  Locking wide eyes to his darkened ones and sharing a small smile, Sam captures her lips again, exposing his full need for her.  She hungrily takes his offering, moving her lips over his before imploring her tongue to explore his mouth.  Sam lets her, giving himself the chance to taste her.  Sweet.  She always tasted sweet to him, everywhere.  It was a complete contradiction to the usually harsh exterior Lou loved to give out to the rest of the world.  She was sarcastic, biting at times, and quick to judge, but really she was kind, patient, and surprisingly sweet.  He was one of the few people who ever got the chance to find that out. 

“You’re getting ballsy,” Lou observes with his more forward than usual approach as Sam removes his lips from hers and brushes aside her long hair.  He was the timid one of the two, always needing that push to get him going.  Right now, he needed no push.  It’s been a shitty road, filled with regrets and loss, and right now, in the few minutes that he gets with what little left he has of her, he’s no longer willing to hold back.  Screw being timid.  She taught him well that being timid never led to anything fun anyways.  His mouth finds her now exposed neck and Lou moans aloud.  “Mm, I kinda like ballsy Sam.”

“Don’t want to waste my time,” Sam says between kisses and runs his tongue along the shell of her ear as his hands inch lower, beginning to work on opening her jeans.  “Never know when I’ll get you back.”

“I’ll always be in there, Sam,” she informs him in a quiet, breathless tone as her head drops back onto him.  “I’m always with you.”

“Not like this,” he tells her, voice tinged with sadness, as he lets her go and grasps ahold of the waist of her pants, lowering them to the floor.  Lou steps out of her clothes and turns to face him, her hands landing on the sides of Sam’s jaw before running down the length of his body as he stands up again, landing happily on the button of his pants.  He takes a moment to smile down at her before stopping her attempts to disrobe him.

Sam moves swiftly, bringing her over to the edge of the hotel bed to standing facing it.  Wrapping one arm around her middle, Sam gently pushes a splayed out hand on Lou’s upper back, bending her over until her elbows prop her up on the mattress and her ass is out in his direction.   

“Oh, you came ready to play today, Sammy-Boy,” Lou grins wickedly over her shoulder as she watches him eye her backside, his hands roaming over her curves as he does.  Sam drags his sights up over her body until he meets her bright blue eyes alit with desire.  He smiles back while leaning over her, his hands atop hers on the bed and fingers linking together.  His lips just a breath away from her own.

“Absolutely,” he tells her happily before once again kissing her.  There was always something comforting there in that embrace.  He could almost find himself again, the person he used to be before heaven, and hell, and his return to hunting all together.  Hunting made him lose his identity.  Once Sam had been a smart, over achieving student with a huge future.  He was a bookworm, a good friend, and a person who knew how to smile and not feel guilty for it.  He had a heart filled with hope and possibility.  Then he rejoined his brother and drifted right back into what his father had made him.  He was Sam Winchester: hunter, pessimist, part-time drunk, and all around hardened persona. 

Then Lou showed up.  She made him feel real again.  She proved that Sam wasn’t just a world saving workaholic.  He was still him somewhere among the mess.  She brought out the good friend he used to be, the lighthearted side he used to have, and the hope he used to hold.  When his lips touched hers, it reminded him of all that at once.  He’s happy it still does, whether it’s real or not.

Sam moves on from her lips, catching first her neck and then her shoulder with his mouth, the familiar scent of what he had always thought was her soap, filling his nose and therefore filling his senses with all her.  A long, low moan of total thrill escapes her throat as he keeps his journey going, running his tongue from the base of her neck slowly down the ridge of her spine, stopping only when he reaches the small of her back.

“Oh yes,” Lou shudders out, her skin on fire with his touch.  Sam drops to the floor behind her, kneeling as he takes a cheek in each hand before entwining his fingers around the thin strings of her thong, something she also was always wearing in his dreams.  In his mind, she wore a combination of the clothes she was wearing when he walked into Bobby’s and saw her for the very first time and what she was wearing underneath when they first really got to know each other physically.   Through the thought, Sam keeps moving, pulling the black fabric down her legs until she could step out of it.  Once off, he takes a moment of total selfishness to roam his hands all over her from his kneeling position behind her. 

“Gorgeous,” Sam nearly whispers mostly to himself while appreciating her body.  He drops a heavy hand onto her right cheek with a playful smile as Lou jumps with the sudden change in sensation.

“Ooh, you _love_ that ass,” Lou smirks, clearly reveling the attention he pays her as she light heartedly shakes her bottom for him.  Sam can’t help but laugh a little. 

“I _miss_ this ass,” he answers back truthfully.  “Among other things…”

“Oh my God,” Lou loudly drawls out when she suddenly feels his tongue at work.  She arches her back as his mouth sends shockwaves through her system, moving over her with expertise.  “Most dangerous fucking tongue on the planet.”

Sam just hums his love for her compliment against her, farther making her legs shake as she struggles to keep her stance he put her in.  This was always something Sam loved, always.  Since the first time he went down on a girl (Lauren Akers, Junior year of high school, her parents basement), he’s been fascinated by the act.  Maybe it was the fact that he was raised to help others and make others happier than he could ever make himself.  Maybe it was the sheer pleasure he got from watching a woman lose herself in what he did to her.  Maybe it was just his ego and the idea that he could do such wonderful things to them.  Whatever it was, Sam took much joy in the act.

He tastes her again and she’s still sweet to him.  As his tongue works her over his senses fill once more with all that is the Lou he remembers vividly. 

Not wanting to push her too far just yet, Sam gives her one last long, flat-tongued lick before slowly standing, his hands never leaving her skin as he does. 

“Fucking tease!” Lou complains when he stops.  Sam brings his hand in as a temporary replacement and rubs her lightly, making her moan again.

“Don’t worry, nympho,” Sam smiles darkly, using his free hand to take off the last of his clothing as she faced away from him.  “You’ll get your fix.”  He kicks away his pants and boxer briefs as he smiles down at her.

“Mm, I better,” Lou warns with want.  “You just started to get me going!  You know…. oh!”  She shouts out when unexpectedly Sam thrusts quickly and completely into her, pulling her hips into his own as he does.  He has a nefarious smile wide across his face at her reaction as Lou drops her head into the mattress and huffs several deep breaths as she adjusts to the sudden change.  “Oh God!  Sam!”

Sam withdraws almost completely from her.  “If I remember correctly, you like surprises, don’t you?” he slyly asks her while punctuating his sentence with yet another hard push into her, making her shout out again.  Yeah, Lou was a loud one, always.  It may have been a bit shocking at first, but honestly, Sam found that he loved it.

“Fucking love surprises,” Lou pants out, pushing up on her hands as Sam beings working in and out of her from behind.  Fingers firmly gripping her hips, he can’t remember the last time he felt so damn good.  Maybe Dean and Lizzy were right, he needed to get laid more often.  Then again, no random chick will ever compare to this right here.  Lou always felt better, whether in real life or in his memories, than any loose chick he could find hanging around at the random dives Dean drags him to.  If every girl was this good, hell he’d probably be the slut Dean once was.

Elbows locked in place, Lou grips the comforter in her hands as the feeling takes over.  “Holy shit, Sam,” she moans.  “Fuck, you feel so good!”  She reaches an arm behind herself, grasping hard onto Sam’s forearm, her noises growing louder and louder as her nails dig into his skin.

“Oh, Sam,” she sighs out his name again, head falling back as she looks up to the ceiling and Sam finds himself wanting to see her face.  In their position he can’t take in her expression, her blue eyes, her lips as they call out his name.  He needs to see her.

Backing away from her slightly, Sam pulls her up by her arm and turns her to face him, lust filled eyes looking up at him with expectation and want.  He smiles down to her briefly before pushing her shoulders, making her fall onto her back on the bed.  She laughs with his sudden playfulness as she watches Sam lower himself over her, knees between her legs and wasting no time in bringing them together once more.  Leaning over her, an elbow propped to each side of her head, Sam looks at her, really looks at her, as he starts moving, slower this time.  He lowers his head, kissing her and taking in as much of her as he can.  He knows this is temporary, that she’ll be gone any second, so he tries to absorb all of her, every ounce.  Lou moves her lips to Sam’s ear.

“I miss you, too, you know,” Lou suddenly whispers to his surprise, making Sam clench his jaw.  She’s never before said that in his dreams and it hurts to hear, but at the same time felt so good. 

“God, I miss you,” he whispers back, never stopping all the while. 

Lou’s moans grow in volume and Sam knows what that means.  She’s close… and he’s that much closer to losing her again. 

“Oh, Sam,” Lou breathes out again, her legs wrapping around his waist to bring him into her more.  She cranes her neck up and kisses him again, her voice all the while letting him know just how good he’s making her feel.  It’s more than Sam can take when she suddenly drops her head back and shouts out her blissful moment, his name flying from her mouth one last time as she does.  Pressing his forehead to hers and grasping the sides of her head, Sam lets himself go begrudgingly.  As wonderful as that moment felt, it always meant that he’d have to say goodbye and he was never ready to say goodbye.

Lou pulls him into another heated kiss, her hands cupping his jaw on either side and Sam tangling his hands in her hair.  They stay this way for as long as Sam is allowed to, lips connected and bodies pressed together as he enjoys the calm and blissful afterglow.  Dream or no dream, that felt damn real.

“I love you, Sam,” Lou tells him, looking up at him with honesty written in her expression.  “I know I never said it before and I should have, but I do.  Have for a while.”

“I know,” Sam grins sadly.  “I love you, too.  I miss you and I love you more all the time.”

“Just don’t forget about me, ok?” Lou smiles. 

“Wouldn’t know how to if I tried,” Sam reassure to the woman in his dream.

“Good because someday we could…”

“Sam!” he hears a voice breakthrough in the distance call to him.  They both hear it but Sam decides to ignore it.

“We could what?” Sam asks, curious as to what she was going to say before getting cut off.

“Hey, Sammy!” the voice he now knows is Dean’s calls again, louder this time.  Damn it!

“Just saying you never know,” Lou explains gently.  “Someday we could find a way…”

“Sam, I know you can hear me,” Dean says as he slaps at his brother’s sock clad foot.  “Open your eyes, bitch.”

Sam’s back.  He’s lying on his back on the hotel bed instead of hovering over Lou.  Without opening his eyes, he answers his brother.

“I hate you.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that to me today?” Dean complains as Sam opens his eyes and turns his head to see his brother sitting on the other bed facing him.

“That bad over there, huh?” Sam asks, sitting up and letting the disappointment settle in.  He knew it was coming and clearly Dean needed him for something.  Dean also didn’t know he’d be ruining anything by waking him up so he can’t find it in himself to get mad.  He’s just saddened.

“She’s a fucking nightmare,” Dean answers, his eye filled with sorrow and hurt.  He hates seeing her like this.  “But at least she’s sleeping it off now and can’t talk anymore, but the mouth on her… dude.”

“I can only imagine,” Sam answers blankly, still trying to shake Lou off as he keeps talking.

“I mean normally, don’t get me wrong, I love that mouth,” Dean continues.  “Could suck a quarter through a straw, I swear…”

“Yeah, gonna stop you right there,” Sam says, face turned in disgust.  He already had to learn more than too much about Lizzy’s life behind closed doors yesterday.  He didn’t need any more information.  “Why’d you wake me up?”

“I needed to ask you something,” Dean begins explaining.  “I doubt you know about this, but mom used to have this bracelet.  It was silver with protection symbols on it.”

Sam just shakes his head no. 

“Well, it meant a lot to her,” Dean continues.  “When I was little I remember seeing it on her wrist now and then.  I just talked to Bobby and he said he had it in storage with a few other things dad kept there.  I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I gave it to L.”

Sam doesn’t answer at first as he’s completely unsure as to how to answer.  “That’s… really nice of you.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Dean cockily responds with a grin.  “I just felt like I should ask before doing something like that.  She was your mom too and if you aren’t cool with her having it, that’s totally fine.”

“No,” Sam immediately responds.  “She should have it.  It makes sense.”

“You sure?” Dean questions, making certain it was ok.

“Yeah.  I want her to have that too,” Sam admits.  “Hell, she deserves it for putting up with us.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” Dean responds while standing up and dropping a hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “Now go get back to that clearly awesome dream you just having.”  With a wink, Dean turns to head back out the room door.

“Such a jerk, dude,” Sam complains to his brother.

Dean opens the door, turns back to face Sam, and flips him the bird.  “And you’re a little bitch.”

Sam smiles to himself, happy to have a good moment alone with his brother for once, as the door clicks loudly shut.

* * *

The room is only lit by the glowing TV that is still on when he wakes up in the middle of the night.  It isn’t the sound of the loud infomercial offering up male enhancement pills that roused him however.  It’s the sound of her voice.  Dean looks toward the source and sees light coming through the cracked bathroom door.  And he can hear her throwing up.  It had only been a matter of time before her binge caught up to her.

Dean gets up quickly and walk quietly into the small bathroom.   He finds Lizzy hunched over the toilet bowl, body wracked with her purging stomach as the copious amounts of alcohol begin their revenge on her for its severe abuse.  Needing to help, he gathers her hair behind her head and stands over her as she continues, letting her know that he’s there.

A few more minutes pass and her retching starts to slow.  She gasps, trying to take in air after the struggle her body put her through, the lone sound echoes off the tiled floor and walls.  Lizzy sits onto the ground with her back against the bathroom wall opposite the toilet and takes a moment to compose herself.  She catches her breath while wiping at her teary eyes and forehead covered in sweat before she grips at her shoulder.  The pain of her gunshot wound flairs with her body’s taxing moment. 

Hating seeing her suffering like this, Dean does what he can to make her more comfortable.  He grabs a washcloth from the towel rack and runs it under the cold faucet.  He then folds and makes his way back to her, flushing the toilet on his way.  He hands over the cold cloth and she looks up to him with grateful and apologetic eyes. 

Leaving for only a minute, Dean searches her bag for the orange bottle of pain killers he’s sure he’ll find there, knowing her shoulder has to be killing her by now.  Any pain-relieving substances in her system have long quit on her by now.  He returns with what he needs, fills one of the glasses on the sink with water, and then takes a seat next to her on the hard floor. 

After watching him pour a single pill into his palm, Lizzy readily takes up his silent offer and gulps it down with the water he brought her, happy to try and wash away the disgusting taste in her mouth as she does.  Once done she heavily drops her head onto his shoulder and they sit still for a moment, Lizzy recuperating and Dean staying quiet, unsure of her mood.  Her stomach churns still but at least she has a slight reprieve from vomiting before the sickness comes back in full force later.  She knows herself enough to be fully aware that she’ll back in front of the toilet soon enough.

“Thank you,” Lizzy whispers out, taking his hand in hers.  Only Dean would still be there by her side after she fled from him in the middle of the night, drank herself to serious concern, and was highly rude to him.  The last part she doesn’t remember much of at all but she only assumes that once she got good and drunk she was probably a bitch to him at best when he crashed her self-loathing party.

Dean grips tighter, so, so, _so_ glad to have _his_ Lizzy back.   Bender-Lizzy is impossible and, quite frankly, a witch.  This version is much better.

“Anything for you,” Dean quietly returns as he takes the cold washcloth from her hand and drapes it across her forehead.  There they sit in the silence of the hotel bathroom.  

* * *

 


	23. She Talks to Angels

* * *

"How you feeling?" Dean asks her as he opens the door to the hotel room. It's noon and Lizzy hadn't moved for the rest of the night after a few more rounds of praying to the porcelain gods. He'd put her back to bed around two in the morning after that. He thought she'd be out for even longer, but he's happy to see her awake, lying on her side, head cuddled into her pillow and watching TV quietly.

"Like dog shit," she responds. "But a smaller piece of dog shit than I felt like last night."

"It's a start," he smiles as he takes a seat next to her, dropping the plastic shopping bag and white cardboard envelope in his hands on the floor at his feet, and nodding to her exposed, bandaged shoulder. "Can I check?"

"Be my guest," Lizzy invites. Dean pulls back the gauze square and inspects her wound.

"Not bad," he reports, standing to toss out the old bandage and get her fresh ones.

"Good," Lizzy responds, head still firmly planted on her pillow. "So how come you're not super pissed at me?"

"Why would I be pissed at you?" Dean asks from the bathroom while raiding her med kit.

"Because I ran away," Lizzy says with surprise in him. "I left you and Sam."

"I found you, didn't I?" Dean responds, brushing off the issue. "You knew I would."

"I also know I was a complete ass to you," Lizzy adds, remembering only bits and pieces of the night. "You're not an asshole, by the way."

"I also like to think you don't hate me either," Dean adds while walking back over to her, new gauze in hand, and reclaiming his seat next to her.

"I told you I hate you?" she asks with utter disgust in herself.

"You didn't mean it," Dean rationalizes while covering her injury while she's still lying on her side. "It only counts if you're sober and actually mean it."

Lizzy reaches up and grabs one of his hands once the tape was down her new bandage. Dean pauses and looks down to her.

"I am so sorry," she says with regret-filled eyes.

"Don't apologize," he tells her. "We all break down now and then. Keeps us as close to sane as we'll ever get."

"But you don't deserve…"

"L," Dean interrupts, not wanting to hear her worries. These few days have been awful enough for her. No need to dwell. "Stop apologizing. It's over." Dean finishes up his work on her shoulder as Lizzy lies quietly. Knowing she's stewing in her own guilt and sorrow, he knows it's time to lighten things up. "So, I come bearing gifts."

He hands over the convenience store plastic bag he'd been carrying when he arrived and Lizzy sits up a little to peer inside with excitement. Two large bottles of yellow Gatorade, a small bottle of Ibuprofen, a pack of her favorite mint gum, and one king-sized Snickers for when she felt good enough to eat again. He knew her so well and the small loving gesture fills her heart.

"My hero," she says with a smile, a real, full smile, while wrapping her arms around his waist and dropping her head in his lap. "This is awesome, thank you."

"Just wait, there's more," Dean tells her, shaking the cardboard overnight airmail envelope in his hand, its contents rattling inside as he does.

"You have my attention," Lizzy tells him, sitting up fully and immediately regretting doing so too quickly. Her head throbs and she reaches swiftly for the painkillers Dean just bought her. She pops three of them in her mouth and washes them down with her favorite Gatorade flavor, lemon-lime, while he explains.

"This," he begins while tearing open the envelope. "Is pretty important to me. It's one of the few things that dad kept of mom's after she died and she loved this thing. So I figured, instead of keep it sitting in Bobby's basement to collect dust, you should have it." He reaches into the envelope and pulls out the silver charm bracelet, holding it in his palm and looking it over. It's been a while since he's seen it and it makes him smile just to behold it once again.

"Holy shit," Lizzy says, setting her drink on the night stand and looking at him with honest surprise. She never saw this huge gesture coming. "Dean, that's…"

"Awesome of me?" he cuts her off.

"Too much," she tells him, eyes wide.

"No it's not," Dean explains. "I really want you to have it. It's a piece of my past, a really good piece, and seeing it makes me remember her. It feels right to pass it on to the only other woman that's been in my life that means so much to me."

"Who are you?" Lizzy looks up to him with narrowed eye at his slightly unusual display of sheer love and affection. He wasn't the jewelry buying, greeting card sending kind of boyfriend for the most part and Lizzy is fine with that. But this, this blindsides her. "Because I'm not dealing with any more shifters any time soon."

"Shut up," Dean jokingly says while unclasping the jewelry and hooking it around her wrist. "I checked with Sam first before I had Bobby send it out overnight and he agreed with me. We both want you to have it."

"I don't…" Lizzy sighs and runs her fingers over the shining silver charms, admiring each one as she does. Protection. Every charm has protective properties. And it was perfect, her style completely, and it linked her solidly to the family she loves so much. "I don't know what to say."

"Thank you is generally what people say when they receive the best gift ever," Dean jests with a grin.

"Thank you," Lizzy responds before kissing him. No one has ever done something so meaningful for her. She knows how much Dean still loves and misses his mother, so for him to include her in any way in that is a gesture that she'll always cherish. "You can't possibly know how much this means to me." She kisses him again, long and slow, before abruptly pulling away. "Shit," Lizzy complains, jumping out of bed. She rushes to her bag to grab some clothes as she ignores her sickness and Dean looks at her in alarm.

"Uh, where's the fire, L?" Dean questions as she hurriedly gets dressed, having only been in underwear and a tank. "You need to take it easy. I doubt you're feeling back to normal just yet."

"Cas is coming," Lizzy explains. "Don't wanna be half naked when he gets here."

"That's just fucking weird," Dean comments, having temporarily forgotten that she had this newfound ability.

"And as usual he comes at the worst possible time."

"That's what she said," Dean grins over to her. Lizzy rolls her eyes with a smile.

"Just hilarious. At least we'll get answers though, right?" she looks to him optimistically while buttoning her jeans.

"Sure," he answers with a sigh, preparing to once more get shitty, life-altering news.

The fluttering wings are heard and Lizzy turns to see Castiel standing in front of the hotel room door.

"Hey Cas," Lizzy calmly greets with a smile, happy to see him. She's cool and collected and has no idea why. She's about to get most likely some very heavy information but she's the farthest thing from scared.

"Elizabeth. Dean," he nods to each as he says their names in his usual serious tone. "Where is Sam?"

"Next door," Dean explains. "You need him for this?"

"No, but I will leave his presence up to Elizabeth since he seems to have become immensely important to her," Castiel explain while walking across the room. He takes a seat at the table, sitting stiffly.

"Dean, can you go grab him?" Lizzy asks, wanting both allies in the room for this one. She would just end up telling Sam everything anyways and at this point, he a very comforting presence for her, especially after the past few days.

"Yeah," Dean agrees as he gets up and leaves the room.

"You know, Cas," Lizzy starts while pulling on her navy canvas jacket in the air conditioned room and then dropping down into the seat across from Castiel at the table. "You don't have to call me Elizabeth. You can call me Lizzy." She smiles to him, somehow feeling closer to the angel than before.

"I know that I can," Castiel responds with a hint of a smile. "But I prefer not to. You're full name has a strong and beautiful meaning."

"Which is?" Lizzy looks at him hesitant wonder. She never knew what her name meant.

"God's promise," Castiel flatly explains and Lizzy smirks with the irony in the meaning.

"Fuck me, man," Lizzy huffs as Dean and Sam joint them in the room. They both sit side by side on the bed facing Lizzy and Castiel.

"Alright, Travolta," Dean begins while looking at Castiel. "What the fuck is going on with my girl?"

"You, Elizabeth, as we've previously discussed, are special," Castiel explains and turns to look at Lizzy. "I just never told you how. It comes down to your bloodline."

"Sounds ominous…" Lizzy comments while stealing a glance at Dean and Sam's serious and concentrated face sitting at the edge of the bed closest to her.

"On the contrary," Castiel rebuts. "It's actually quite auspicious. You come from a very distinguished lineage."

"If you tell me I'm the second coming, so help me I will smack you," Lizzy points at him with raised eyebrows and a hint of playfulness. Even Dean finds the ability to huff a quick laugh at her comment.

"You are not the human offspring of my father," Castiel confirms. "You are, however, once removed."

"Come again?" Sam asks with a very confused expression.

"'And it came to pass," Castiel starts reciting. "When the children of men had multiplied that in those days were born unto them beautiful and comely daughters. And the angels, the children of the heaven, saw and lusted after them, and said to one another: 'Come, let us choose us wives from among the children of men and beget us children.'" Castiel then pauses when he realizes he has three completely blank stares aimed his way with his quoting of ancient scripture.

"Ok," Sam comments as he can see where this is going.

"I'm lost," Dean says aloud.

"It's from the book of Enoch," Castiel tells them as if that meant anything to them. It didn't.

"Anyone have Rosetta Stone for angel speak?" Lizzy asks Dean and Sam, still confused.

"Enochian," Castiel corrects.

"What?" Lizzy questions.

"Our language, it's called Enochian," he tells her. "In the earlier days of man, my father sent angels to look after the Earth and its inhabitants. They were the Watchers. When humans first started procreating, the daughters they produced were beautiful and quite enchanting… even to my brothers. They then made a very regrettable decision."

"So angels jumped off their clouds for a little human on wing action?" Dean incredulously asks.

"Why do I get the feeling God didn't like that so much?" Sam comments. With what they've learned so far about the big man, he can only assume God wasn't down with this.

"He most certainly did not," Castiel assures. "He cast the fallen angels down into a place of total darkness and left only a small number of these angels on Earth, the ones he'd truly loved and trusted to change their ways. However, these fallen angels became bitter when they couldn't return to heaven. That bitterness grew into anger, and then into pure fury. These became the Earth's first demons."

"The first demons were fallen angels?" Lizzy asks with concentrated wonder. She finds herself enthralled by the story itself. How interesting and highly ironic that pure good had spawned pure evil.

"Yes, even their eventual leader was once a bright and beautiful angel of the lord. When Lucifer was cast down, he took it upon himself to lead the already created demons."

"This is like jacked up Sunday school…" Lizzy comments quietly.

"No shit," Dean answers. "So angels came down to bang some hot humans, they became demons… where does L fit into this?" He looks to Castiel with pleading eyes, desperate to understand what is happening to her.

"Elizabeth is a long down the line product of this heavenly indiscretion." Castiel turns to Lizzy with a very serious look that has what she could swear is little bit of pride behind it. "You have Nephilim blood in you… a large amount actually."

"Nephilim?" Sam questions before Lizzy can let out her protest to the idea.

"They are the heroes of the old, the men of renown," Castiel quotes once more from ancient script. "In other words, they are the products of the fallen angels and their female, human counterparts."

"Half angel, half human…" Lizzy comments off-handedly. "I'm part heavenly bastard. Awesome. Why do I have so much of this Nephilim in my bloodline then?"

"Your parents were both products of several different Nephilim lines coming together in the generations leading up to you," Castiel explains. "It was a daunting task making sure it all came together as God willed. Very difficult. But, after much hard work, you came into being."

For the first time Lizzy's brow knits together as her eyes grow wide. She's no longer calm as Castiel shares the very large truth behind her existence.

"Wait a minute…" Lizzy holds out a hand to Castiel to make sure he doesn't keep talking before she's ready. Plus, she has some questions. "God wanted there to be a person who was heavy in angel blood so he sent his henchmen out to Chuck Woolery my ancestors together, which lead to my parents?"

"Yes," Castiel plainly answers.

"Then you played matchmaker with my parents and boom, God's little angel-human hybrid is fucking born?"

"Exactly," Castiel once more answers her plainly.

"Shiiiiiiit," Lizzy draws out as she stares at Castiel with fear. Unreal. This whole situation is too unreal. Mulling over everything she's just been made aware of, Lizzy stays quiet and thinks while Sam and Dean keep the questions coming.

"Why?" Dean needs to know, the panic striking him hard. "Why does God need someone like that?"

"That is still mysterious even to me," Castiel says.

"So the angels set this whole thing up, years and years of interfering with humans getting knocked up to create Lizzy and you don't know why?" Sam incredulously asks.

"That is the truth," the angel returns. "I have my theories, but God has never passed down the true reason behind it."

"Whoa, this is heavy," Lizzy sighs out, the weight of the discovery pressing invisibly on her shoulders.

"Alright, then toss us some of you theories, Cas," Dean asks. "What do you think daddy dearest is up to?"

"The timing suggests it has something to do with the Apocalypse," Castiel says. "I feel it is very intertwined. How I am not sure, but it seems clear to me."

"Why else?" Lizzy pushes him.

Castiel sighs, obviously unsure of what to share and what to keep to himself. "I find it interesting that you and Dean were destined to be together, which was also a command of my father's."

Lizzy leans back away from the table for a moment, letting his words truly seep in. She peers over to Dean with sad eyes when she puts it together.

"The motivation Laraje was talking about," Lizzy recalls the words of the demon that possessed her and revealed maybe too much about their futures. "It has something to do with that." Lizzy looks quickly back to Castiel. "Doesn't it?"

"I believe so," Castiel explains with hesitation that none of the hunters pick up on while trying to come to terms with the revelations.

"You aren't gonna tell us what that means are you?" Sam probes, getting the feeling that Castiel can only say so much. He's spot on.

"No," the angel says. "I don't know anyways."

"So Paul and Cath were seeped in angel blood," Lizzy comments, thinking about her parents and finding herself happy they didn't need to know any of this.

"Well, you're partially right with that." Castiel trains his eyes on Lizzy, narrowing them and carefully selecting his words. "Catherine was very connected to the Nephilim line, you are correct about that."

"But… you said both my parents were…" Lizzy tries to get her question out but gets interrupted.

"Both of your blood parents were in fact decedents of the Nephilim line." Castiel looks away from her at this point, eyes searching the room as his body tenses when he senses something.

"What's going on, Cas?" Dean asks when he sees the ridged manner Castiel suddenly acts. The angel stands up from his seat in the wooden chair and looks around the hotel room, effectively cutting off their highly important conversation about just who Lizzy is.

"They're coming," Lizzy answers for the angel, also sensing the oncoming visitors. "A lot of them. And fast."

"Cas, what do we do?" Sam quickly asks with alarm as he and Dean stand up quickly.

"Come," Castiel demands as he lines them up side by side in the Las Vegas hotel room, Dean in the middle. He grabs Lizzy and Dean's wrists and pulls their hands together, getting them to hold on to the other. He then does the same with Sam and Dean.

"Whoa," Dean stops him, pulling his wrist back. "The hell are you doing?"

"Trust me, Dean," he responds heavily while pressing Sam and Dean's palms together and they awkwardly oblige the angel while looking suspiciously at each other.

"Um, Cas?" Lizzy begins, a threatening feeling overcoming her suddenly. It's dark and foreboding. "They're pretty angry."

"They're angry with me," Cas cryptically explains. "I have answers for you but if we stay here, it won't be good. We need to go."

With that, Castiel presses his fingers to Dean's forehead in the middle of the hand-held line. The room is filled with the sound of fluttering and then it's empty. All four are gone and the only sound left in the room is the TV quietly playing daytime soaps.

* * *

**_THE END_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment for me below. I will always respond. I love to hear what you all have to say, good or bad, helpful criticism or cannon corrections. You are the reason I get better over time!


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